To Heal a Broken Spirit
by Adrianna-Rossetti
Summary: Set post-Paris and mostly A/U. Lots of dark content. A ruthless Nate abuses Andrea after he reads her journal. She covers it up well when she goes to work each day, and no one is the wiser-not even the object of her affections. When Andrea finds herself inches away from death, will Miranda make it in time to heal Andrea's broken spirit? Rated M for rape, abuse, and language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Devil Wears Prada. Just borrowing some of the characters for a while.**

**A/N: Hey guys. This is my second Fanfiction story. I'm so thrilled that my creativity bug has decided to stay for a while! I decided to write this in first person, because I've never written a story like that before and liked the challenge. (Also, I think first person makes the story more powerful.) I realized when I was writing my last story that I'm much better at writing angst and not humor. So, lucky for you, this story is filled with angst. Please read and review! Thanks!**

"Where the fuck have you been bitch?" A hand shot out and seized my arm as soon as I stepped into our apartment. I jumped.

"Work Nate," I said meekly, shuddering.

"The dragon lady again?" Nate hissed, digging his nails into my wrist.

"Nate, please stop. You're hurting me," I whispered, not even acknowledging his use of my boss' cruel nickname.

"No way. Answer my question. What the hell were you doing?" His voice rose. If possible, he dug his fingernails even deeper. My arm barely registered the pain, as he had been abusing me like this for about a week.

"Work Nate," I repeated. "Please. I was dropping the book off. Please let me go."

"And just what were you doing with her?" Nate spat, not letting go of my arm. It had become numb from his grip.

"I didn't even see her. I swear," my eyes filled with tears before I rapidly blinked them away. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

"Whatever bitch," Nate rolled his eyes, and shoved me away and I crashed against the wall before sliding down, grateful that he'd released me. A shooting pain traveled up my leg and I cradled my arm to my chest and looked at the ground, willing the tears not to fall.

"I'm going to the store. You'd better not leave," Nate glared at me and swept out of the room, slamming the door shut.

As soon as he left, I let the tears run down my cheeks as I looked down at my bruised and throbbing wrist. I stumbled to the fridge and grabbed an ice pack out of it, wincing as I pressed it gingerly on the swelling bump. It was the same old charade each day. I'd come home from work, and he'd immediately start beating me, yelling about Miranda. It was all my fault that he'd started being abusive. I had neglected him, spending more and more time at work. And not to mention that damned journal that I so foolishly left lying around in my bedroom. I still can't believe that he read it though. I resumed my spot on the ground where I fell and I thought of the first time that he'd hit me.

_I had kept a journal where I recorded every personal thought that I had. After Paris, I wrote about how Miranda looked when she was sitting in the hotel room wearing nothing but a bathrobe, her feet bare. Her face was wiped clean of makeup, and she looked like any other normal middle-aged woman who was devastated about her upcoming divorce. I wrote about how I tried to comfort her as much as I could, and was astonished when she let me. She didn't talk much at first, but she soon became more comfortable and confided in me that Stephen had called her an 'ugly, old, frosty bitch.' A flash of anger overtook me, and I forcefully declared that she was a gorgeous powerful woman that I looked up to. I wrote about when she looked at me with her puffy red eyes, I ignored the warning signs flashing in my head and sat on the couch next to her. Miranda looked at me quizzically but without malice, so I gently wrapped her in a hug. Stiffening at first in my arms, she allowed herself to relax and sank into my embrace, sniffling. We sat there for a while in comfortable silence before Miranda's sobs subsided and she lifted her head up and stared at me. She softly told me that she wanted to be left alone for a while. I hesitated, but I saw the icy mask return so I scrambled up and left silently. I wrote about the surprise that filled me when I heard a quiet 'thank you' from behind me. I turned. Her piercing blue eyes were looking right at me and I nodded once with a small smile on my face before continuing on my way out of the room. After I exited her room and looked into the mirror to touch up my makeup, I saw that my chocolate-colored eyes had filled with tears. It hit me like a bolt of lightening. I wrote about the shock I felt when I finally admitted to myself that I was in love with my boss. It wasn't an infatuation. I wrote about the soft gasp that escaped before despair filled me. There was no way she'd ever feel the same. I sniffled and dabbed at my eyes. Damn unrequited love. At least I still got to see her everyday._

_I wrote about having a drink with Christian Thompson that night. I declined his offer to go back to his house for a nightcap after he revealed his plan to get rid of Miranda. It was already 2 in the morning before I returned to my suite, and I decided to warn Miranda in the morning since now was an unreasonable time to tell her. The next day was filled with me panicking and furtively trying to tell Miranda, but of course, she had it all figured out. I wrote about how I was hurt a little that the woman that she'd shown me the previous night had disappeared. When she announced her plan and I saw Nigel's face fall, I wrote about how I almost left in anger. Thankfully, Nigel talked some sense into me before I did. We returned from Paris, and life moved on… Except I was in love with Miranda. She'd been kinder since we'd returned. I wrote about the very first smile she gave me, my words written sloppily in cursive in my haste to get it down on paper. We were friends now. I wrote about our weekly coffee meetings that slowly progressed to daily ones. I wrote about every little touch. Every single smile we'd shared._

_Then Nate found my journal. I arrived home late from work one day, and he confronted me about it, holding my journal in his right hand and waving it around. I knew he had been drinking, judging from his flushed face and the smell of beer wafting from him. Nate demanded to know why I was attracted to my boss that was about 30 years older than me. He asked why I suddenly was a lesbian. I don't remember what I said. I was nervous, my only thought was 'why didn't I hide that better?' and 'why the hell did he read it?' He advanced menacingly towards me. He struck me and I cried out, clutching the reddening skin. All of those little thoughts vanished, and I was immediately thinking darker thoughts. 'What if he raped me? Would he kill me?' Suddenly, the light from his eyes brightened and he slowly ripped my journal up. Each tear made me shudder and I felt like he was shredding my heart. He threw the remains into the fire and grinned, the light illuminating the dark shadows on his face. I was so scared. He turned and went to bed like nothing had happened. Before he left though, he rasped, "If you try and leave Andy, I will find you and kill you." I just sat crying, rocking back and forth with my arms around myself._

_The next morning, Nate apologized profusely. He was so sorry. His excuse was alcohol, and my tender stupid heart forgave him. That was my mistake. I didn't leave when I had the chance. I went to work and covered up the mark. I had made Miranda laugh, and my heart lifted as I proceeded on my way home. When I walked into my apartment though, all of the exuberant feelings crashed. Nate was sitting in a chair, clearly drunk again. The events from last night transpired again. He hit me multiple times, and when I tried to scream for help, he covered my mouth and whispered that he would do much worse if I tried that. I shut my mouth, terrified, and let him strike me over and over again, the slaps making an echoing sound. I felt so helpless. He left, but I didn't sleep. My body ached so badly and I longed to get a wet cloth to soothe the welts, but I didn't move from my crouched position on the ground. I stayed up, waiting for him to return. When 5 am rolled around and he still didn't come back, I ran to the shower and scrubbed at my skin, making it even redder than it already was. I popped two Advils in my mouth before pausing and contemplating. I shook some more out before I threw them back in the bottle in disgust and set it back down. I scolded myself for even pondering death. I was strong enough to handle this._

_I planned to pack my bags and leave before he came back, but he was too fast. He returned, reeking of alcohol as I was throwing the last of the stuff that I needed into a black duffle bag. I whirled around, screaming. I felt so stupid. I should've planned my escape better. He hit me so hard that time, I blacked out. When I came to, he was leaning over me and he growled, "If you ever try and escape again, I will make it the last thing you do." I believed every word, and didn't try to escape again. I would give anything to escape this new hell that I found myself in._

_Each day passed so slowly, the beatings becoming progressively worse. He would yell awful things to me as he was punching me, and my self-esteem was slowly plummeting with every passing day. I was faithful to work though, not missing a day. I kept my 'happy' mask on and from the outside, I appeared calm and collected like I always was. Once though, I had instinctively flinched when someone had reached out to me, and I quickly turned the flinch into a stretch, mentally scolding myself. I had almost revealed that somebody was hitting me. Sometimes I would limp and other people would comment, but I would brush it off, joking about how clumsy I was. The main culprit of my hobble was the stairs. I covered up the bruises with heavy foundation and concealer. I wore sleeves and pants most of the time. My clothes were baggier since I had started eating less and less. Although this time, it wasn't because I was surrounded by size 0 models all the time; it was because I had lost my appetite. Wearing belts with most of my outfits helped a lot in not drawing too much attention to my shrinking figure, and I fooled everyone into thinking I was ok. Even Miranda, although today she looked at me with a look of concern on her face when I had a particularly large bruise in my face that makeup couldn't quite cover up. I said that I tripped, blaming the stairs again. I smiled, but I think she could tell that it didn't reach my eyes._

I let my eyes wander over my tattered body. It was getting harder and harder to cover up all of the marks. Thankfully though, Nate mostly hit me in places where my clothes covered the awful black and blue spots from prying eyes. I was so ugly. I squeezed my eyes together when I felt a new wave of tears coming. Nate didn't even need alcohol to help aid him now. And that scared me the most. He was comfortable hurting me when he was sober.

I was so tired. I covered my eyes with my hands, wiping away a few drops that had escaped. The strain of each sleepless night filled with abuse (both mental and physical) had started slowly catching up with me. I had scarcely slept 5 hours total in the last week, and my makeup was barely covering the dark bags under my eyes. I needed to find a peaceful place to rest so people wouldn't get suspicious. Perhaps I could find solace underneath my office desk. A shudder passed through me as I thought of what Nate would do to me if I never came back. But I desperately needed the sleep, so I decided that tomorrow I would stay at work during the night, and face the consequences as they came. The doorknob jiggled, and my heart thumped as my stomach lurched.

**A/N: Hopefully you liked it! Also, I just wanted to let you know that I _never_**** use those swear words in real life. I kept cringing every time that I wrote one, but I felt that it was essential to Nate's character. This is the first 'dark' story that I've written, so please leave advice! Thanks so much for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: ****Unfortunately, I don't own Devil Wears Prada. ****I don't own any of the characters, blah blah blah. Not making any money off of it.**

******A/N: Thank you so much everybody for the support and advice! ****I'm trying to write everyday, and your reviews are helping me do that. ************I always smile like a dope when I read them so please R&R. :) This chapter is mostly dialogue, so bear with me!**

"Bloody hell Andrea!" a British accent exclaimed, and relief washed over me when I realized it was not Nate. The red-head was standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth, most likely taking in my damaged appearance. She was still dressed from work and I immediately felt self-conscious, even though she had become my closest friend after Paris. (Lily and Doug had abandoned me when they found out that I stayed.) I had given her a spare key to use. I dropped the ice and tried to push myself up by my arms to make myself look less broken, but with the weakened state I was in, they didn't support my weight and I slid back down the wall. I whimpered. I probably looked pathetic. My tears had washed away the foundation I had applied so carefully earlier, and she could probably see every bruise that Nate had inflicted upon me. She could also see the dark circles under my eyes, and I lowered my head, trying to hide behind my hair.

I could feel her staring at me, still rooted in the same position, and that was my breaking point. I tucked my knees up under my chin and wrapped my arms around them, starting to bawl and not even caring. The air was stale when I frantically tried to inhale it. In my almost drunken stupor, I registered a soft pair of arms being wrapped around me. Emily sat on her knees as she held me while I cried, and rubbed soothing circles on my back. I finally stopped, hiccuping.

"Oh gosh Em," I sniffed, looking at her now-soaked shirt, "I'm so sorry."

"Oh hush Andy," Emily scolded gently, as she brushed a brown strand of hair away from my face.

"So uh, why are you here?" I asked, looking back up at her while trying to compose myself. I grabbed the ice pack and set it back on my wrist.

"I saw the bruise today," Emily whispered. "I'm not stupid Andrea. I knew you didn't fall tripping down a flight of stairs, so I came to investigate. God, I knew you were clumsy, but not _that_ clumsy!"

Seeing the tears start welling up in my eyes again, she quickly asked what happened.

"Nate," I simply replied.

"Why that no good motherfu-"

"Em, not helping," I quickly interrupted.

"Sorry. Why?"

I told her how Nate had felt neglected ever since I took this job. I explained how Nate found my journal, and had gone berserk and hit me for the first time. I also explained how he would hit me every time I came home from work and how lately he didn't need alcohol to help him. Emily's eyes started filling with tears, and I suddenly felt awful for telling her. I knew it most likely added even more stress to the red-head's already busy life.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"Whatever for?" Emily looked startled.

"Uh, for burdening you with my stupid problems."

Emily grasped my arms firmly and looked me straight in the eye. "Andrea bloody Sachs. You are not burdening me. I'm so sorry that I didn't notice before."

"Don't be sorry. I hid it pretty well I think," I replied, leaning my head back on the wall.

Emily's face fell and she walked over to the fridge (probably composing herself) and grabbed a new ice pack before returning.

"Wait. What was in the journal?" Emily asked, handing me the pack and sitting cross-legged across from me.

"Uh, private thoughts," I blushed, suddenly absorbed in the ice pack.

"Like what?" Emily prodded.

"Um. Like I'm in love with Miranda, and have been ever since Paris," I strung my words together in a rush.

"Bloody hell," Emily said, dumbfounded.

"Yup."

"Well that's great! I mean that you're in love with Miranda. Not the other stuff."

"Yea. Don't tell her obviously."

"Of course I won't!"

"Don't tell her about me and Nate either. And please don't tell the police."

"Andrea!"

"What? It's not her problem. I don't want to add to her stress. As for the police, they can't find out! They'll come and arrest him or something! Nate will be so angry, and it would do more harm than good."

"Andrea! That bastard deserves it. Don't you think you need to-"

"Oh my gosh," I cut her off as I struggled to stand up again, panic seizing me. I had forgotten.

"What? Andy. Sit back down. You're in no condition to be standing," Emily shot up and assisted me, but I wouldn't let her push me back down. I stood on wobbly legs as I leaned on Emily heavily for support. Good thing that I had lost about 5 pounds in the last week, otherwise the skinny woman wouldn't have been able to support me.

"I totally forgot about Nate. Nate is going to come back any moment now. Emily! Please. You have to get out of here," I hurriedly said, my eyes flashing towards the door and back to her stricken face.

"Andrea. I'm not leaving you alone with that..._monster_," Emily spat.

"Please Em! I don't want him to hurt you!" I was agitated that she wasn't listening to me.

"Fine. Come with me," she said.

I gaped. I contemplated the idea. I had already decided that I was going to spend a night away from Nate, right? And Emily's sofa would be comfier than the floor under my desk...But I couldn't risk Emily's life like that. Who knows what Nate could do to her?

"But Em! What about Nate? What if he follows us? Or what if he finds out somehow and he'll harm you? I'm not putting you in deliberate danger."

"All of your 'what ifs' are giving me a headache," Emily blinked before adding, "You know I live with Serena. She is very aggressive when she's angry! I'll be perfectly fine."

I thought about that for a minute. She was right. Serena was a force to be reckoned with if you got on her bad side.

"Are you sure that I won't be imp-"

"Positive," Emily fixed me with a glare that I knew meant that she wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. I relented.

"Then you can't tell Miranda or anyone-especially the police- about...my condition," I stared at her.

"Ugh. Fine. Let's just get away from here," Emily urged. I allowed her to help me to the door, my leg still painful from Nate slamming me into the wall. We headed to her car and she waited behind me when I climbed in before she walked around to the drivers seat. I was a nervous wreck, jumping at every little noise I heard and every light I saw. I didn't relax until Emily backed out of the parking lot and got on the Interstate. The ride was silent, but not awkward. With every mile that passed, my heart got heavier and heavier as I thought about what Nate would do to me. I started regretting my decision to leave. I was going to have a heart attack from anxiety, and I would most likely have another sleepless night. We made it to her house, and I got of the car unassisted since the pain in my leg had left.

Emily unlocked the door and allowed me to step in first.

"Hey sweetie," Serena came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. She promptly dropped the towel and held a hand over her mouth (similar to Emily's appearance earlier) as she gasped when she saw me. I winced, cursing my appearance at that moment when I saw the gorgeous Brazilian. Luckily, Emily brushed past me and gently took her girlfriends hand.

"Um, hi," I stuttered awkwardly.

"Oh honey," Serena breathed, "Are you ok?"

"Serena," Emily interrupted, "Andy is exhausted." I felt a wave of gratitude towards her. I knew that she would fill Serena in later when they were in private.

"Oh of course! I'm so sorry," Serena exclaimed, looking remorseful. I felt even worse.

"I'm really sorry-"

"Andy, you have nothing to be sorry for," Serena assured me. "So...want the bed?"

"Oh no! I'll take the sofa. I'm not kicking you guys out of your bed," I fervently shook my head.

"When's the last time you've slept?" Emily interjected.

"Um..."

"Exactly. You need the bed more than we do," Emily responded smugly.

"Thank you so much Emily," I said softly, realizing that it was useless to argue, "and thank you Serena."

They both nodded. I walked over to Emily and gave her a hug. "I really appreciate it," I whispered in her ear. She squeezed me gently in return. "Feel free to take a shower. You know where everything is, so help yourself to anything you need."

I turned to Serena, who gave me a light hug.

"If you need anything at all during the night, just wake us up," Serena said earnestly.

"Thank you both again," I said one last time before I exited the room. I've been to Emily's and Serena's house many times, so I found the bathroom quickly. I showered slowly, enjoying the warm water cascading over the blackening of my skin, and wrapped myself in a huge towel before exiting the bathroom and going to their bedroom. Not even bothering with turning on the lights, I dressed hurriedly in a pair of random pajamas that I blindly grabbed from their closet, and flopped onto their huge king-sized bed. I snuggled under the covers and pulled the covers tightly over myself. Nate's threat rang in my ears. _"If you try and leave Andy, I will find you and kill you." _Suppressing a scream, I turned over on my side and threw an arm over my head, trying to banish all thoughts of Nate from my mind. I could hear muted voices, and knew that Emily was telling Serena. I was so grateful that I had such wonderful friends. I choked back a sob and buried my face in the pillows before letting it all out. Once I was done crying...for the third time? Or was it the fourth? It didn't matter. I was spent. Sleep came quicker than I thought it would, and I slept soundly for the first time in a week.

**A/N: Less swearing in this chapter! :) Thoughts? Suggestions? Comments? Please review! Thank you so much again!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Usual. Unfortunately, I don't own any of it. Not making any money, yada yada yada.**

**A/N: Thanks again to all of the reviews and the subscriptions and readers of my story! Made my day! I went back to the first and second chapters, and I revised/edited both of them numerous times. Don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine. Without further ado, here it is!**

Morning came all too quickly, and I cracked my eyes open blearily. I checked the clock that was next to the bed, and it read 5:01. (My body had automatically gotten used to waking up around 5 after working for Miranda for so long.) I laid in bed for a while, thinking about her. She was the reason why I stayed for so long. I could have left and pursued my dreams of becoming a journalist, but I loved her too much to even think about leaving. Yet even though she didn't return my love, I knew I would never leave her side. Sighing, I sat up and gasped when I saw my wrist where Nate had grabbed it last night. It was swollen-even with the ice that I had placed on it last night- and was now a disgusting shade of purple and yellow. Just thinking about Nate made me want to vomit, and I almost cried. I felt so guilty that I had just left him without any note or anything. He deserved better than that and I made my mind up. I was going back there tonight and telling him that I was sorry. My stomach twisted in knots, but I pushed those feelings aside.

After another glance to my awful wrist, I decided wearing long sleeves would be beneficial to everyone. I was closer to Emily than I was to Serena, and the thought of wearing her clothes made me uncomfortable, so I decided to borrow some of Emily's. I hopped out of bed and grimaced when my leg protested a little. It didn't hurt, but it was a tad stiff, so I stretched it out as best as I could before turning to their closet and trying to find something to wear in all of the red-head's size-0 clothing. I was still a size four, but I was slowly dwindling down to a size 2 due to my lack of appetite. That would've thrilled me a year ago, but a lot changes in 12 months, and I honestly didn't care anymore. I picked out a black Chanel jacket, a Dolce and Gabbana shirt, and a plaid Burberry skirt, (that all fit me pretty well) and laid them out on the bed. I trudged over to their chest of drawers and pulled it open. Pausing briefly when I saw the assortment of undergarments, I snatched a black lacy thong, praying that it was Emily's and not Serena's and stepped into them. Since my chest size was bigger than Emily's, I wore the same bra that I wore yesterday. I also decided to wear the same heels that I had on yesterday too.

Dressing quickly, I went to the bathroom and borrowed Emily's hairbrush. After Paris, I allowed my bangs to grow out so they were the same length as the rest of my hair. I had gotten numerous compliments from Serena, Emily, and Nigel when I first showed off my new 'do. Miranda had even approved, as she had looked me over once and nodded. My heart still soared when I thought about her approval. Shaking my head slightly, I pulled the brush through my brown strands and gargled some Listerine before spitting it out in the sink. Applying light eye shadow and mascara, I looked over myself in the mirror. The bruise on my cheek was still there and I sighed. It was too brightly colored to be covered up.

Figuring that there was nothing that I could do about it, I walked out into the kitchen, and saw both Emily and Serena sipping coffee. After exchanging pleasantries, they both went to their bedroom and quickly got dressed. I skipped breakfast, too scared about Nate to eat. I waited, feeling sorry that I had made them wait to use their bedroom and bathroom, but those feelings vanished when they came back out with smiles on their faces. We got in Emily's car; Emily and Serena in the front and me in the back. We drove to work, listening to the radio. I tried to ignore the sympathetic look on Serena's face when she looked at me in the rear-view mirror. I knew that she probably looked at me different now, and I felt awful. Emily caught my eye in the rear-view mirror too, and softly cleared her throat, snapping Serena's attention away from me. I sat back in the seat, marveling how Emily knew exactly what I needed at the right time.

We got to work, and realized that we forgot to pick up Miranda's coffee. I volunteered to go get it, and rushed out of the office, running all the way to Starbucks. With a hurried 'thank you' and a smile, I grabbed the coffee that they had already pre-made, and I was back out the door in less than 10 seconds. The coffee was scalding, and I had to slow down on my way back so I wouldn't spill any on myself. As I strolled up to the big building, a silver Mercedes pulled up and the door opened, revealing a tantalizing ankle before it was followed by a long leg, and then gorgeous body. And there stood Miranda Priestly in all of her glorious beauty. I slowed my walk when I saw her, and swallowed hard, letting my eyes roam freely over her body. Then I pulled myself together and walked over to her.

"Good morning Miranda," I smiled brightly, handing her the coffee before falling in step beside her. Her eyes roamed over my body and I gulped before she gave a small nod of her head and took the coffee from my outstretched hand.

"Good morning Andréa," She responded, taking a long sip of the searing liquid. I shivered; the way she pronounced my name never got old. We entered the building and swept into the elevator. I felt so privileged that she allowed me to ride up with her, and savored the pleasant silence as we ascended. The doors opened, and she strutted out first before I followed, trying really hard not to stare at her butt. When we got to the outside of her office, I took her coat and bag and hung in the closet. Smiling at Emily, I sat down at my desk and started checking Miranda's schedule.

"Andréa," a silky voice called.

I pushed my chair back and glided into Miranda's office, a smile on my face. I didn't need a notepad anymore. I was so attuned to her needs, I usually had done everything she wanted before she requested it. Miranda stood up and walked around her desk and paused a couple of feet away from me. Then, like a dream, she gently reached out her hand and brushed it against the bruise on my cheek. I couldn't suppress a tremble and shut my eyes.

"Is your cheek better?" she murmured, softly stroking my face. I forced my eyes open, still not believing that Miranda was touching me. _Crap. I forgot that I didn't cover the ugly thing up. Darn it._

"Uh, yes," I stuttered. _Damn it Andy. Way to be illiterate. _"Thank you for asking."

"It's a shame that your pretty face was hurt. Silly girl."

My heart stuttered. She called me pretty! I could feel a stinging behind my eyes, and I blinked hard, trying not to cry. I hadn't been shown such tenderness in a long time. (Well, aside from Emily and Serena.) Even when Nate wasn't abusive, we hadn't been intimate in a long time-even before Paris.

I cleared my throat, trying to collect myself, "Well it's a lot better now. It doesn't hurt anymore. I'm sorry that I forgot to put makeup on it this morning. I know it's not the prettiest thing to look at. Uh, I was in a... um, rush."

"Andréa. You don't need to apologize."

"Alright. Thanks Miranda."

We stood in silence for a while, Miranda's cool hand resting on my cheek. My eyes were closed again, and I relaxed deeper in her palm. The phone rang, and my eyes flew open as I jumped. Miranda didn't take her hand off of my cheek though. The phone rang again, and she seemed to reluctantly release her gentle grip on my face before answering it. (Maybe it was in my love-struck imagination though.) I backed away and shot her a shy smile before I backed out of her room, her crystal blue eyes following my every move. As soon as I got out of her office and plopped in my chair behind my desk, I started hyperventilating. '_OMG'_ was the only thought running through my brain. Emily glanced over at me, and I hurriedly typed out an e-mail to her explaining what happened. I watched her face as it lit up and she responded immediately.

To: Andrea Sachs

From: Emily Charlton

Omg! You go girl! Congrats! I'm happy for you! :)

-Em

I mouthed a thanks, and leaned back in my hair, feeling giddy. The rest of the morning passed without incident, and I went out to lunch with Emily. (Serena stuck with a spread that Miranda was particularly demanding about.) We both didn't eat anything; Emily on her weird cube cheese diet, and me because I still didn't have much of an appetite. We got caught up chatting excitedly about my Miranda experience, and were almost late back. We raced back to the office, giggling as we tried to beat each other. We burst into the office before pausing and organizing our disheveled appearances, trying to look more presentable. I straightened my jacket on my way back to my desk, and a hand shot out and wrapped around my injured wrist. I half-yelped and half-screamed from both the shock and pain that was now shooting up my arm. The hand retreated hastily, and I crumpled to the ground in agony.

"Oh my god Six," a voice panicked. "I'm so sorry! What happened?"

I looked up at Nigel, my eyesight getting a little blurry around the edges. I didn't respond because I was too focused on my own breathing. Emily was by my side in a flash, rubbing my back in soothing circles again like she did last night.

"What on earth?" Miranda's voice washed over me, calming me, and I looked up at her. I thought I saw a look of concern flash through her azure eyes, but the icy mask returned, making me doubt it. "Is there some reason why you've decided to bother the whole office?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No...no...I'm fine," I blubbered. "So sorry."

My eyesight was fuzzy again, and I shakily stood up, holding onto Nigel for support. The combination of nerves, excitement, pain, and not enough food in my system was quickly catching up to me in that moment. I felt quite ill.

"Excuse me," I said quickly, still trying to appear dignified even though I knew I failed.

Then I raced towards the bathroom before bursting into one of the stalls and promptly throwing up in the white porcelain toilet.

**A/N: I know Andy's a little...pathetic (?), feeling guilty about leaving Nate even when he was awful to her, but I needed to show the vulnerability and guiltiness she felt in the beginning. As always, thanks so much! :) Please R&R! Mwah!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: ****Usual. Unfortunately, I don't own any of it. Not making any money, yada yada yada.**

**A/N: ****Thanks again to all of the reviews and the subscriptions and readers of my story! I really appreciate all of your wonderful advice. So excited to continue! Still don't have a beta, so all mistakes are mine.** SAP and JUJUChick16: I'm so sorry that you have gone through something that awful. I hope that you have recovered. I'm trying to make Andrea go through a journey of healing, (with a certain editor's help!) and making her weak (?) in the beginning. Judging by your reviews, hopefully I'm doing okay at it! :) I've been trying to post every day, so thanks for sticking with me! :)

I looked at the mess I had just made, and flushed it down with a look of disgust on my face. I clutched the toilet seat as I dry-heaved for a while. My wrist burned, and I blinked back tears. The bathroom door opened, and I soon felt Emily's hand as she rubbed soothing circles on my back again. I opened my eyes and gave her a weak smile. We moved to the outside of the stall and sat down, me leaning back against Emily as I closed my eyes. "Thanks Em," I breathed and she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. The door opened again, and I could smell Nigel's $610 dollar Ambre Topkapi cologne waft in before I saw him. I looked up at his distraught face.

"Oh my god Six," Nigel said hysterically. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"

I glanced back at Emily, and she simply said, "Tell him."

Nigel had a look of concern on his face, so I exhaled slowly and rolled up the jacket's sleeve, revealing the repulsive mark. He recoiled a little before whimpering, "Oh Six. No wonder why it hurt when I grabbed it! I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," I shrugged and rolled it back down.

"What happened?"

"Nate," I sighed.

"Why that idiotic assh-"

"Nigel! You had the same reaction as Em!" I laughed. "As I told her, not helping."

"Sorry," Nigel looked abashed before asking Emily, "What did you say?"

"I said that he was a no good mother-"

"Nigel gets the point!" I broke in. Nigel just shook his head.

"How long as this been going on?" he asked. "And why?" He came and kneeled down next to me, which I marveled at, since I never in a million years would've thought that Nigel would be squatting on a bathroom floor. I was about to answer him before the door swung open a third time, and the scent of Miranda hit me. She looked at me laying in Emily's arms and her eyes seemed to fill with fury. Why was she upset? She snapped her attention to me, and her gaze softened.

"I was wondering if you were alright Andréa," she said softly, her hand pausing on the door handle.

"I'm fine, thank you," I smiled at her while my heart soared, "I just pulled a muscle yesterday, and Nigel grabbed it wrong."

"Oh," Miranda's gaze searched me over a couple of times, and I shivered from the intensity of the stare. "Well I'm...glad you're okay."

"Thank you Miranda," I responded, shocked.

She nodded, and looking back at Nigel and Emily, she raised an eyebrow, "Is there some reason why you two aren't busy working? And why, Nigel, are you in the women's bathroom on the floor?" I stifled a laugh at Nigel's face. He closed his eyes and stood.

"Because Miranda, our dear Andy here threw up, and I wanted to make sure she was well," he responded. The small grin on my face disappeared and I glared at him.

"Uh. Because I have food poisoning!" I quickly said before Miranda could comment.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, "Andréa, you may go home if you are not feeling well."

"No!" I almost shouted before seeing the look on Miranda's face and calming down. "Uh, I meant no thank you. I'm fine, really."

"Very well," Miranda responded. I breathed a sigh of relief that she let it go. Miranda then scowled at Emily, "Emily. Is it too much to ask that my employee is doing her job? Have you fallen and suffered a brain tumor?"

"N-no Miranda," Emily stammered. I didn't blame her. I was surprised by the hostility that was clearly emanating from Miranda.

"That's all," Miranda glided out of the bathroom with one last look at me.

"Six, honey! Why did you lie to her?" Nigel rounded on me as soon as she left.

I proceeded to tell him what I told Emily. I even told him about my love for Miranda. He actually had to lean on the stall door for support as he sank down to his knees next to Emily and me.

"Really?" Nigel sputtered.

"Yes. Ever since Paris," I admitted. "Except I still had feelings for her before then. I brushed it off as an infatuation until I finally realized that I loved her."

"Wow," Nigel just looked at me with wonder.

"Yup. But she doesn't care about me," I sighed, looking down at my hands.

"Six, how do you know? Didn't you see her face when she saw you in Emily's arms?" Nigel asked, looking pointedly at us.

I looked back at Emily, "Kinda. She did seem very...uh...bitter. More so than usual I guess."

"Bitter?" Emily yelped. "She was jealous! She looked ready to pounce on me at any given moment! I mean, if looks could kill..."

I snorted, "I very highly doubt that. She probably was mad that all of her employees weren't working. I mean, what do I have to offer her? I'm not rich. I'm not pretty-"

"You absolutely are Andy!" Emily interrupted with a frown on her face.

"No I'm not. I mean, just look at this bruise. It's so ugly. And that's only one that you can see. The rest are either covered up by makeup or clothes," my eyes filled with tears again.

"Aw Six," Nigel said sympathetically and moved closer towards me. He took my hand and added, "I'm absolutely positive that your feelings for a certain white-haired editor aren't one-sided."

I sniffed, "Alright. We'd better get to work or Miranda will fire us all. Thank you guys again for listening and being so understanding."

I scooted out of Emily's arms and stood up before walking over to the mirror and blotting away the mascara smears from my tears. The three of us exited the bathroom without further comment and got back to work. The rest of the day passed all too quickly, and I soon found myself lying to Emily after she asked if I needed a ride to her house. I didn't want to be a burden to Emily or Serena anymore, and I had to tell Nate that I was sorry for ever leaving him, so I told her that I was going to pick up my stuff from Nate's, and then drive myself to her house. In reality, I was going to go back and beg for Nate's forgiveness. She hesitated, but I quickly reassured her that I would be fast, and Nate probably wasn't going to be home anyways. Emily finally gave in, but I could tell she wasn't happy about it. I left the building, my heart sinking with every step. I hailed a cab to my apartment, and slowly climbed out. I paused and looked up at my window. The light was on, and my stomach clenched into tight knots. Nate was home. Steeling myself, I walked into the building, and marched up the stairs. Trepidation filled me as I got closer to the door, and I almost chickened out. I pulled myself together, mentally shouting that Nate needed me, and inserted the key into the lock and turned.

**A/N: My shortest chapter so far, and ****l shall leave you with this wonderful little cliff hanger. :P As always, please read and review! Thanks mes chers! Mwah. Hope you had a good Father's Day!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Usual! I don't own Devil Wears Prada. Otherwise, Mirandy would have happened ;)**

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and readers and subscribers to my story! I absolutely love you guys! :) I write and edit/revise all these chapters multiple times before publishing them. Then I go back and re-read them numerous times and improve them some more. Even then, I'm not 100% satisfied. If you have advice for any of the chapters so far, please R&R! Warning: This chapter contains rape. And swearing. Please don't read if it offends you! Thanks again!**

"So you've decided to come crawling back," Nate stated. He was sitting in a chair, facing me with his hands folded in his lap. I shivered. Somehow he knew I was coming back and he waited for me. I carefully set my keys down on the table next to the door and cautiously approached him.

"Nate, I'm so sorry. I should have never left," I whispered, my eyes filling with tears.

"Damn right," he hissed and stood up. I started to back away, but he seized my wrist that already had the bruise. I screamed in agony for the second time that day, and sank to my knees.

"Nate, please. You have no idea how much guilt I've suffered through yesterday, or today. I need you," I begged, my tears falling freely now. His response was to tighten his grip even further and I almost blacked out from the incomprehensible pain I felt.

"Oh yeah? What was the only thing I told you?" Nate shouted.

"Never to leave," I sniffed, "I was so wrong. I'm so sor-"

"Exactly. And you disobeyed me," Nate cut me off and threw my arm down in disgust, "God Andy. You make me sick. I don't need you like you seem to need me. Look at yourself. You're an ugly whore who is infatuated with her female boss that's about 30 years older than her. Wake up Andy. She's never going to feel the same way."

Each word that fell from his ruthless lips made my heart rip in tinier and tinier pieces. I hung my head in shame and sobbed. What could I say? He was right.

"You're repulsive. See those bruises?" Nate gestured to my legs where my skirt had ridden up. My eyes wandered over my beaten thighs. He was right...Again. They were disgusting. They weren't perfection. They weren't perfect for _her._

"You're so ugly. I can't believe that I ever fell for you," Nate spat and kicked me in the ribs. I fell over, gasping for breath. He kicked me again in the same place, and I saw spots dance in my vision.

"Nate. I'm so so-"

"Shut the fuck up."

Nate crawled on top of me and I panicked when I felt his hard-on. It made me sick. He was getting so much pleasure out of abusing me. Why the hell did I come back?

"Nate! Please don't!" I cried, flailing my arms. Nate's weight was almost unbearable on my injured rib. He ignored me and slapped my face while he secured my arms with his. I tried to kick him, but he growled and sat on my legs. Sucking in a big breath, I was prepared to scream for help, but Nate pressed his lips over mine and I was cut off. Cringing, I bit his lip tasted blood before he released me.

"You're going to regret that bitch," he said as he wiped his lips off. Nate landed heavily on top of me, knocking the air out of me once more, and forcefully kissed me again. I didn't respond, and tears cascaded down my already stained cheeks. He leaned back and hit me.

"Stop crying. It's sickening kissing you. I can't believe that I'm doing it, but I'm going to because you need to learn your place."

"Nate, please," I whimpered, "stop."

Again, my pleas fell on deaf ears, and he resumed kissing me. I finally gave in and slowly kissed him back. He pulled away and his face turned up into an evil grin. Nate made his way down my body, and pulled off my underwear. I stifled a scream.

"Nice. Black lace," Nate chuckled and pocketed them. "Where did you get these?"

"W-work," I stammered, lying.

"I approve of the clothes, but somebody as lowly as you doesn't deserve to wear them," Nate jeered and pulled his shirt off, which was soon followed by his jeans. His hard-on was standing straight up, and my eyes filled with fear.

"Nate, please don't. Please. I'm sorry. Please. Stop," I made one last effort to dissuade him, but my heart sank when I heard his next words.

"Now why would I stop? As I said before, you need to be taught your place. You thought it was okay to leave, and obviously, I can't have that," Nate stoked my face, and I recoiled. It was creepy to have him touch me so gently after he'd inflicted so much pain on me. He pulled off my skirt and shirt, leaving me in nothing but my bra. I flushed and turned my head so I wouldn't have to look at his lust-filled eyes. He unclasped my bra and tossed it away to the side.

"See Andy? I'm the only one who will ever make love to you. Nobody wants to have sex with somebody who has bruises all over," Nate's eyes gleamed with malice. I could feel a new batch of tears coming on, and I furtively tried to swallow them down. Of course he was right. Nobody would ever want me. I was too battered and scarred. Both mentally and physically. He shucked his underwear, and revealed his penis. We were both naked now.

"Suck it whore," he stood up, and I kneeled in front of him. I closed my eyes before a sharp tugging pain in my scalp made me open them again. "I want your eyes open." I obeyed, and took it in my mouth. I proceeded to give him a blowjob. He forced it down my throat, and I gagged; my initial response was to bite him, but I didn't want to think about the consequences for that, so I held back. When Nate came, I was forced to swallow it, and I pushed away the bile that rose up.

He pushed me so I was laying back down on my back. Nate roughly kneaded my left breast, and I looked away. This time, he didn't object, so I let my mind wander. I tried to think of something-anything to escape the pain I felt. He nibbled on my breast before taking it into his mouth and gently sucking on it. I gasped when that foreign pleasure swept through my body, and looked down at him. I was confused. Why was Nate being so gentle? He kissed his way up to my ear and sucked on it while I tried to hold back a moan. His fingers grazed down my stomach, and trailed down to my vagina. Then he shoved three fingers into me quite forcefully and I squealed in pain.

"Well slut," Nate whispered, "looks like you're wet from me."

That's why he was being so tender. My body had betrayed me. I stifled back a sob and turned away from him again. Suddenly, he forced himself into me, and my body racked with pain. It had been a while, and it hurt like my first time. I clutched onto him for support, and immediately started mentally bashing myself. The pain was too intense though, and I wrapped my body around his sweaty one. He thrust in and out while he groaned.

"God. You're so tight Andy."

I stayed silent, crying softly. When I came, I felt like a cheap hooker and my soul was crushed. Nate came after a few more thrusts, and fell on top of me, panting heavily. I accepted his weight quietly, and soon he lifted himself off of me and stood. He stretched and yawned. I just laid there, not knowing whether to move or not. The silence stretched on, and Nate just stood there looking at me.

"You know what?" Nate suddenly said, startling me.

"What Nate?" I almost didn't even have enough strength to answer him. The pain between my legs was slowly intensifying, and my rib stung. It was probably broken. From him.

"Just go. I don't have any use for you anymore. I thought you were going to be a good fuck. But you weren't," Nate said. "I couldn't concentrate because of your welts. Ugh. I can't believe I wasted my time on you. You're pathetic."

"I can go?" I asked meekly, staring up at him. I couldn't believe my luck. I was finally free from hell.

"Get out of here. I never want to see your face again," Nate snarled.

I stood up on trembling legs, and hurriedly grabbed my clothes, Nate watching my every move. I ran out of the apartment naked and didn't look back. The darkness cloaked over me as I pulled on the jacket, skirt, and shirt, and I started running barefoot to the street. The warm air did little to relax me, and I waved down a taxi and jumped in. Spitting out the address, I leaned back into the cheap upholster and breathed in the cigarette smell that was wafting around. Examining myself, I realized that I looked quite disheveled. My shirt was tucked at an odd angle in my skirt that was put on backwards, and I was barefoot. Not to mention all of the bruises that covered my body. I also probably smelled like sex. I snorted. The taxi driver probably thought I was a prostitute. I drew in a shuddering breath, thinking about what Nate said. Before I could start bawling again though, I firmly pushed all of those thoughts away.

I was now a stronger person, and it was then that I realized that I never needed him. I never needed to feel guilty, and I promised myself that I was never going to go back to Nate. It was time to start the healing process. The taxi pulled in front of the house, and I rushed to the door, promising to pay the driver after I talked to the owners. I rang the doorbell, and Emily's worried face was the last thing I remembered before darkness clouded my vision and I fell, welcoming the blackness that overtook me.

**A/N: Ok. That chapter was really hard for me to write. At least Andy finally realized that she didn't need to harbor any guilt, and she became a stronger person. As I told you in the beginning, more angst is coming. It's going to be a while before Miranda and Andy find happiness together. Thank you for sticking with me.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Usual! I don't own Devil Wears Prada. Otherwise, Anne Hathaway and Meryl Streep might have sued me for what I would have done to their characters ;)**

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and readers and subscribers to my story! Ok. So I usually just wing each chapter with no idea how it's going to turn out. I hate (and I mean I absolutely _detest_****) pre-writing, but I actually did it for once and I ended up with a tentative outline of how I want this story to turn out! I'm so excited! Thanks for sticking with me! Mwah!**

"Andy. Andy," a British accent pulled me out of the blackness. I groaned and fluttered open an eye, meeting Emily's concerned blue ones. I realized that I was lying on the couch with my head in her lap, and she was softly stroking my hair.

"Whew. She's awake," a different voice sounded relieved. I turned my head and saw Serena with a wet washcloth in her hand.

"Andy?" Emily cautiously said, stilling her hand. I swallowed, but couldn't say anything. I think I was in shock. Without warning, I abruptly burst into tears and curled on my side, seeking Emily's warmth. Emily's response was just to resume stroking my hair and whispering comforting words to me as I trembled. How many tears could I have left? I absolutely hated Nate for making me feel this way. I finally calmed down, hiccupping as I wiped away the last of my tears.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Andrea," Emily's sharp voice cut through the air, and I flinched before she tried to relax. "You don't need to say sorry! I'm the one who's sorry. I absolutely can't believe that I let you go by yourself. What the bloody hell was I thinking?"

She was getting more agitated by the second, and I tried to calm her, "Emily. It's not your fault. I lied to you."

"What did he do to you?" Serena cut in, placing the wet washcloth on my forehead before she sat on the ottoman with her arms resting on her knees and her hands folded under her chin. I inhaled a trembling breath before I told them.

"...And I'm pretty sure that he broke a rib," I finished.

After I was done, both women looked absolutely furious. Serena's fists were clenched tightly by her sides, and Emily's eyes had narrowed into almost slits.

"That fucking bastard," Serena bit out before she rose and started pacing the floor. "I'm going to kill him."

"And I'll be with you every step of the way babe," Emily growled in agreement, ever so slightly tightening her hold on my head.

I internally smiled. Both Serena and Emily were so protective. I was so lucky to have such great friends. Friends that I didn't deserve, my brain screamed at me. I pushed that thought away before I rushed to reassure them.

"Guys! What matters is that I've gotten away from him, and have no intention of going back."

"That son of a bitch needs to pay," Serena glowered, not ceasing her pacing.

"Yeah. Jail's the only place for assholes like him," Emily frowned.

"Please guys," I begged. "Although I really am touched by your concern, he's not worth it. I'm never going back there. He can't hurt me since he doesn't even know where I'm staying."

"Andy! You can't let the man get away with all this shit!" Emily exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.

"He's not worth it," I repeated. Secretly, I was scared that if I exposed him, Miranda would find out, and I couldn't handle her knowing. I didn't want her to judge me because I was raped. I was dirty now, and not worthy of being looked at by her. In fact, my brain whispered again, I wasn't even worthy of Emily and Serena talking to me. I sat up and sniffed.

"Alright Andy," Serena finally relented, and I noticed Emily shooting daggers at her before Serena raised an eyebrow and she gave in too.

"Are you going to tell your parents?" Emily asked, already probably knowing the answer.

"No," I replied, "They've got enough on their plates."

"Okay," Emily responded before changing the subject. "Do you want to take a shower?"

I winced at the thought of the harsh water shooting out of the showerhead and onto my broken skin.

"Actually, may I take a bath? It will be less painful," I asked.

"Of course," Emily replied before standing and stretching.

"Wait! Did you pay the cab?" I worriedly questioned.

"Yes," Serena responded, rolling her eyes while muttering something like, _she just got raped and she passed out and she's worried about the stupid taxi driver?_

_"_Uh. Thank you. I'll pay you back," I said.

"No need," Emily responded warmly. "Alright. Let's get you your bath, and afterwards, I'll tape your rib up."

I stood up off the couch, and I turned to Serena to tell her thank you. She nodded and took the (now dry) washcloth from my hand. Emily went with me to the bathroom and drew me a bath before she gently helped me into it. I hissed as the warm water washed over the marks, but clenched my teeth and didn't allow any tears to fall.

"Thank you so much Em," I looked up at her.

She hugged me, not caring that I was naked, and left to give me some privacy. When she was gone, I took the soap and scrubbed hard, trying to wash away the smell of Nate. My skin burned, but I kept cleaning myself off furiously, determined to rid myself of anything related to Nate. Gasping, I remembered that he came in me without a condom on. I frantically washed myself down there, but I don't think I did any good. I might be pregnant. Just fucking great. Sinking back under the water, I felt depressed. Nate had abused me, so there must have been something wrong with me; other than the fact that I had, in a sense, cheated on him with Miranda. I hit myself with my hand. Why oh why did I leave that stupid journal out?

"Serena!" Emily's voice cut through my mental berating. "Why the hell did you tell Andy that we wouldn't go to the police?"

"Em, honey," Serena's patient voice rang though, "try to see it from her point of view. She doesn't want anybody to know because she's embarrassed and scared."

_Why were these walls so thin?_

"But that idiot needs to pay. He deserves serious jail time," Emily's voice became more frustrated.

"Miranda will surely find out," Serena said, "and you know how Andy feels about her."

"Yeah," Emily's voice was quieter. "I suppose I'll try and contain myself."

I cursed, anxiety flooding me. How the hell did Serena know? And Emily? Was I that obvious? Did Nigel know? Oh god. What if _she_ knew? I sat straight up, wincing because I forgot about my broken rib. I had to get out of the tub. I heard footsteps approaching, so I shakily stood up and grabbed a towel, wrapping myself in it. As I was pulling the stopper out of the bathtub to drain the dirty water, a knock came from the door.

"Yes?" I timidly asked.

"Andy, I have some clothes here for you," Emily added, "and there's some tape in there that I can use to bind your rib."

I opened the door, and Emily handed me the pajamas before waiting outside to let me get dressed. I dressed hurriedly, grimacing when I pulled the shirt on. There was a slight pain between my legs, and I took a mental note to ask Emily for some Advil. I opened the door again, and Emily came in. She opened the cabinet and turned with the binding in her hand. I lifted my shirt and she wrapped it quickly. How long was it supposed to stay like this?

"It'll take about six weeks to heal," Emily said, as if reading my mind. "I've had several cracked ribs too. They're quite painful, but they'll heal up."

"Thanks again Em," I gratefully told her. "Hey. Do you have any Advil? I'm a little...sore."

"Sure," Emily said before turning to the cabinet and pulling out a bottle. I took the cup by the sink and filled it with water before downing it with two pills.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am Em," I whispered. She hugged me, being mindful of my broken rib, and kissed my cheek.

"You would've done the same for me," she grinned softly, "And then some."

I snorted.

"Now come on," Emily gently nudged me, "time for bed. Do you want me to call in sick for you tomorrow?"

"What?" I was appalled.

"Andrea!" Emily was shocked. "You aren't possibly thinking of going to work tomorrow, are you?"

"Uh, yeah. Otherwise Miranda might think something was wrong, since I've never ever missed a day before," I said before adding something to break the tension I felt at the mention of Miranda. "Besides, is it even in our contracts to call in sick?"

Emily scoffed, "Probably not. But are you sure?"

"Positive," I gave her a weak smile.

"Ok," she responded, and didn't push any further. She went with me to the bedroom, and I didn't even object to taking their bed this time, since I knew that I would be fighting a losing battle. She tucked me in with almost a maternal feel, and I sighed before I snuggled deeper into the blankets. Emily kissed me on the head and left after shutting off the lights. The cover of darkness blanketed over me, and I was restless for a while before I finally succumbed to the sleep that would take me away from the nightmare I found myself in.

**A/N: Andy finally got over feeling guilty about Nate, but now she's broken because of the rape. Advice of how victims feel afterward they get raped please? As always, please read and review! Thanks again so much!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? I've already established multiple times that I don't own any of it. :(**

**A/N: I'm so surprised at the number of reviews that this story has gotten! Thank you all so very much :) ****Special thanks to: MauMauKa, NA, and magikedforyou for the advice on rape victims. I shall try and incorporate all of it into the story! ****Alright. Thanks again to all of the readers/subscribers/reviewers! As always, if you had comments/complaints/suggestions/ideas, hit the blue letters at the bottom of the page! **

The next morning was uneventful. I woke up with a sharp pain between my legs, and I stumbled to the bathroom to take more Advil. I borrowed some more of Emily's clothes, grateful that I had lost so much weight; this time it was Elie Saab wide-leg white pants, and an Alexander McQueen blouse with Chanel heels. I applied her thick foundation over all of the bruises on my face and arms. Taking a good look in the mirror at my almost-perfect reflection, I was startled when I saw my eyes. They had lost its sparkle and looked almost dead, but there was nothing I could do about them. My appetite hadn't gotten any bigger, so I skipped breakfast and waited for Serena and Emily to finish getting ready. When they were prepared, we drove to work in silence. Emily offered to get the searing hot coffee from Starbucks, and I nodded my head in thanks, not saying a word. I sat down in my chair and felt extremely guilty. I had taken her residence, her clothes, and her makeup. Not to mention adding a ton of extra stress on both her and Serena.

I leaned forward in my chair and tilted my head to the side before resting it on the desk and closing my eyes. I was an awful person. I didn't deserve her kindness. I was making her and Serena both suffer from what I had gone through. I should never had told them. The problem was, where would I go if I left their house? I didn't have enough money to buy my own apartment, and I didn't want to become homeless. A slight gentle cough interrupted my inner turmoil. I blearily looked up and was immediately trapped by two cobalt eyes in a steady gaze. Miranda. _Shit. _I scrambled up and rushed to her side.

"I'm so sorry Miranda," I blabbered. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Nonsense Andréa," she responded and the sexy way of her pronouncing my name made shivers run down my back.

Her gaze looked me over a couple of times before giving a slight incline of her head. Usually, that would have made my whole entire day, but I was different now. No matter how many times she gave me a nod, I would still feel ugly. I took her coat silently, not even daring to do the usual subtle brush of my fingertips along her neck. I didn't even deserve to be in her presence. Taking her bag in my other hand, I put both of them in the closet and returned to my desk, noting that Miranda had gone into her office. I was so stupid for falling in love with her. I'm no where in her league. She's gorgeous and powerful, and I'm...me. An abused and raped victim. Tainted forever. I sighed. I didn't even deserve her friendship.

"Andréa?" her whispery voice floated out of the door.

I got up and went into her office, keeping my eyes firmly focused on the floor.

"Yes Miranda?"

"Where is my coffee?" she didn't sound angry though. She sounded troubled.

"Emily is getting it," I responded hollowly, still keeping my stare locked on the ground.

"Andréa-"

But she was cut off by a breathless Emily running in with her coffee.

"So sorry Miranda!" Emily panted.

I heard Miranda take a sip of it before spitting, "Is it too hard for an assistant of nearly _seven_ years to get my coffee right? This coffee is not adequate. Get me a new one."

"I'll get it," I jumped in, wanting the chance to leave _her_ presence before I did something irrational like bursting out into tears and running in her arms.

I spun on my heel and strode out of the room, hearing Miranda fire out orders to Emily. Making my way to Starbucks, I went into the coffee house and strode back out again in less than 2 minutes. Sometimes it was good to have connections. I smirked. Rushing back to Runway, I made it back in about 7 minutes and went to Miranda's office. She was facing away from me, so I set the coffee gently on her desk and turned, fully intent on bolting from the room until I heard her chair spin around.

"Andréa. Close the door," she commanded. I shut my eyes before doing as she ordered. I shuffled back to her, training my eyes on her desk.

"Yes Miranda?"

"Look at me."

I tore my eyes away from her translucent desk and swallowed as I looked at her fully for the first time today. I let my eyes quickly roam over her body. She was wearing a grey Michael Kors dress with a black belt and looked breathtaking-as usual. She stood up and made her way over to me. I instinctively flinched before I remembered that it was _Miranda_ and not _Nate._ I tried to calm my racing heart and wiped my suddenly disgustingly sweaty hands on my pants. I looked away again, rapidly blinking away forming tears. It would not do to fall apart in my secret love's office. Then, as if I were dreaming, she reached out a perfectly manicured finger and tilted my chin up so I was looking again in her crystal-blue eyes. I could not help the tiny gasp that escaped me when I studied them. They had a hint of something in them. Was that sadness?

"Andréa," she spoke softly, "we are friends. Is there something bothering you?"

I wanted to scream at her '_Yes! I am hopeless in love with you, but you will never see me as anything more than a friend. And if I tell you, you will be so disgusted with me. And I simply could not bear having you look at me with contempt.'_

But I refrained from saying that and answered, "No Miranda. I'm just a little...tired."

"Your eyes look so...haunted," Miranda shivered. I was appalled. Miranda never _shivered._ Needing to soothe her, I resumed the position we were in yesterday. I grasped her finger that was still firmly resting under my chin, and pulled it up so that her hand was laying on my cheek, and held it there. She caught her breath, but didn't push me away, so I closed my eyes and cradled my head into her hand. It was almost like I _needed_ her calming presence. I_needed_ a soft caress. Consequences be damned. Soon, I felt her other hand gently stroking my hair and I snapped my eyes open. There were _tears_ in her eyes and I internally cursed myself. God. I seemed to be hurting everybody. I tried to back out of her hold, but she tightened her grip and resumed gently running her fingers through my hair. I succumbed to the sweetness that Miranda was emitting and sighed contently, ignoring the voice in my head that said that I didn't deserve that gorgeous creature touching me. After what seemed like an eternity of Miranda's soothing caress, I gently pulled away, mourning the loss of contact, and cleared my throat.

"So, uh, is there anything I can do for you Miranda?"

Miranda gave me one last lingering gaze before she seemed to reluctantly drop the subject and turned back to her desk.

"Yes. I need you to make plans for Fashion Week in a month. We are going to Milan," she said, sitting down in her chair.

"Who's we?" I inquired, secretly excited. I needed to get away from New York. And _him_.

"Emily, Nigel, you, and me."

"Alright."

"And Andréa?" Miranda fixed me with another one of her piercing gazes.

"Yes Miranda?"

"If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask. I'm here if you want to talk."

I was shocked and didn't know what to say after that, so I simply nodded and turned away. Opening the door, I walked through it and sat down at my desk. Emily was looking at me with a look of concern on her face, so I inclined my head towards her to reassure her; I couldn't bring myself to smile at anybody. I focused my attention on the glare of the computer screen, and began finding adequate restaurants where we could dine and hotels where we could stay during our trip to Milan.

**A/N: I don't actually know how long Emily has been working at Runway, so I just guessed. I hope I portrayed Andy as a real abuse victim. I wanted the setting to change, so I sent them to Milan! ****I'm excited! :) (**Paris is so overrated, and almost everybody sends them to Paris in their stories! :P) Thanks so much again for all of the advice and reviews!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Don't own it…**

**A/N: Hey guys! :) Thank you so much to the reviews/subscribers/readers. I really appreciate reading all of your kind reviews! You guys rock! Special thanks to JUJUChick16. I realized that you guys were right; Andy has waited too long to go to the cops. I don't think it's possible to press charges against him now...But don't worry. Nate will have something later...A beyond-furious Miranda shall do nicely. (Although, she won't know for a while...) Thanks so much! Enough of my rambling...**

The weeks flew by in a flash. I was frazzled. Miranda had countless photo-shoots and run-throughs with designers as Fashion Week approached. Her schedule was never the way she wanted it, so I would spend countless hours rearranging it. To add on top of that, I had spent almost all of my free time booking hotel reservations and flights and finding restaurants in Milan to accommodate Miranda's needs. I must admit though, I kind of liked the overwhelming workload. It helped keep my mind off of Nate. Although, the stress had gotten to me and I had lost a lot of weight. I was now a frail size 2, and if anybody told me that I looked fragile, I would have probably agreed with them. I avoided Miranda as much I could and didn't speak much to anybody-let alone smile or laugh. The circles under my eyes were getting darker, due to the constant nightmares of Nate that plagued me at night.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. Emily shot me a sympathetic smile before returning to her own work. I had just printed out the flight confirmation when Miranda's silvery voice wafted out of her office, "Andréa." I groaned internally, but went into her office, flushing a bit when I remembered the last time I was in here and she had so tenderly stroked my hair. Miranda was wearing her glasses as she poured over the latest issue of the Book. When I entered, she looked up and took them off.

"Andréa," she repeated. "I trust that you have made acceptable arrangements for us?"

"Yes Miranda," I replied, plucking up the courage to look her in the eye.

"Care to elaborate?" Miranda said crisply, but without venom.

I jumped a bit, but I looked at her fully and responded, "Our flight is scheduled to leave at nine a.m. tomorrow. It's about an eight-hour flight, so we should arrive there about five. I booked us to stay in the Four Seasons Milano. I arranged for you to stay in Royal Suite, Nigel in the Deluxe Room, and Emily and I in the Executive Suite. They are all connected by a private staircase and-"

"You and Emily will be sharing a room?" Miranda interrupted, her eyes flashing.

"Yes," I said, hoping that Miranda wouldn't say her usual 'unacceptable.' She pursed her lips. _Uh-oh._

"Fine," Miranda waved her hand. "That's all."

I rushed out of the room, glad that she didn't chew my head off, and sat heavily at my desk. Emily met my eyes with a concerned look on her face, but I just shrugged my shoulders and returned to the tedious task of finding restaurants that were up to Miranda's standards. A few hours passed before Miranda breezed by my desk. Emily hurried up to fetch her coat and bag, but she stopped the red-head with a scathing glare.

"Andréa," Miranda almost whispered to me, "come with me. Emily, you may go on your lunch break now."

I scrambled up, and rushed to grab her items. I helped her into her coat and handed her her bag. Emily was frozen with an incredulous look on her face, but when Miranda raised an eyebrow at her, she grabbed her purse and fled out of the office. After she left, Miranda turned to me.

"Andréa, have lunch with me today," Miranda said. I've had lunch with her before multiple times, but not since Nate...I worried that I wasn't going to be good company, but I nodded wordlessly and followed her out of the door.

* * *

Lunch wasn't awkward like I had predicted. Miranda kept an easy conversation flowing, and there were little pauses. My spark had re-ignited a bit, and I almost smiled..._almost_. There was a little extra bounce to my step, and I knew that my eyes had rekindled some of its warmth and spirit. Talking with Miranda had done wonders to my spirit. I sauntered in the building with Miranda by my side, and rode in the elevator with her.

"Andréa," Miranda asked as the numbers flashed, signaling our ascent.

"Yes Miranda?" I winced at the usual response that I gave.

"Why have you not been eating?" her face etched with worry and concern.

"I have," I said weakly, not meeting her gaze. I stared at the flashing numbers, willing us to go faster. Why the hell was her office so high up anyways?

"Andréa," Miranda said firmly. "I know that you haven't. Don't lie to me. You've dropped down at least two sizes."

"Uh..." I was at a loss for words.

"Don't become a clacker Andréa," Miranda murmured and swept out of the now-opening elevator doors. I stood there for a minute, just gaping before the elevator doors started closing, and I came to my senses and jumped out.

"Andy!" a voice shouted, and I turned to see Nigel rushing frantically towards me. My heart lifted even further when I saw my bald-headed friend. I had withdrawn from him since that...night, and felt exceedingly guilty. I didn't deserve such great friends, but I figured that I at least owed him an explanation, so I allowed him to approach me.

"Hey Nigel!" I gave him a quick wave that probably looked dorky, but I didn't care.

"I haven't talked to you in a while Six!" Nigel exclaimed, breathless when he reached me.

"Well I've been busy," I responded, "and I'm not a six anymore."

Nigel gasped when he ran his eyes up and down my body. "I do say that you're not Andy! You're more like a two?"

"Yup," I sighed.

"Follow me. We got a lot of catching up to do," Nigel's brow creased in worry.

I trailed after Nigel, and found myself in an editors office. I admired a photo of Marilyn Monroe that Nigel had tacked up on the walls before turning to him.

"Where have you been Six?" he asked worriedly.

"To be honest, I've been avoiding you," I took a deep breath.

"Why?" Nigel frowned a bit.

"Because...Because..." I started sobbing and leaned against the wall for support before sliding down it. I raised my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I vaguely heard shuffling before Nigel sat down next to me. He started gently stroking my hair. It felt nice, but not as good as when Miranda did it. I buried my head into my knees and started to really bawl. I leaned into Nigel, who provided a wonderful source of comfort. He waited patiently until I sniffed and looked up at him, wiping my eyes.

"Nate r-r-raped me." I blurted out.

Nigel's eyes flashed with anger. I started to weep again. "Oh Nigel, I don't deserve a friend like you. I'm ashamed and angry. And I'm just so tired. And Miranda's workload is making me stressed, so that's why I'm so skinny. I haven't been eating. I'm just not hungry. I feel depressed and sad half of the time, and angry the other half. That's why I didn't want to talk to you. I was afraid that I would do just this." I gestured to us. Nigel gave me a guarded hug, as if holding me too tight would make me break. I accepted it, and slowly relaxed into his comforting embrace.

I looked at him and added, "And I've been bunking with Emily and Serena. I feel so guilty! I've totally taken their house. And their clothes, and their makeup, and their food, and-"

"Andy!" Nigel interrupted my rambling. I hiccuped pathetically and sniffed. "Now Emily and Serena would rather have you living with them and being safe than living with that monster. Don't feel guilty. They are your friends, and care about you deeply. You would hurt them even more if you leave. They love you. I love you. You have so many people that love you and are willing to support you. You don't need to fight this alone."

My eyes welled up again, and I rested my head on Nigel's shoulder. I tried to process everything he just said.

"Thank you," I whispered. He gave me a small grin. "Please don't breathe a word about this to _her._" I didn't have to elaborate on who 'her' was.

Nigel nodded and nudged me, "And smile Six! I miss it around here!"

I allowed a small smile to grace my features and I had to admit, it felt good. I noticed a ferocious glare in Nigel's eyes, and sighed.

"As I told Emily and Serena, there's no use in going to the police. I've already washed away all of the evidence."

Nigel frowned, but remained still and allowed me to lean on him for support. After the pep talk from Nigel, I felt a little more confident and less guilty, but I still harbored some feelings of responsibility for what happened and felt disgusted at myself. An overwhelming sadness took ahold of my heart, but I tried to put on a brave face. I stuffed all of those feelings down like I was a bottle, and screwed the lid on tight. I had no plans to open it anytime soon. I resolved to start the healing process all by myself. I did not want to bother anybody with my problems. They were mine- and mine alone to fight.

* * *

That evening, I helped Emily pack. She (of course) allowed me to take her clothes, and she helped me pack my own suitcase. I didn't feel as guilty as I did before and gave her a hug, which she hesitantly returned before tightening her hold on me. As I zipped the bag up, I allowed another small smile to appear. I was finally getting away from New York and Nate for a while. I needed to clear my head from the memories that resided in there, and Milan seemed like the perfect place to do that. Later that night, I engaged in a game of Scrabble with Emily and Serena, much to their surprise. It was time to start the healing process, even if I was only fooling myself by squeezing my feelings of depression and sorrow deep down where nobody could find them.

**A/N: It was fun to research hotels in Milan! It took me a while to pick the perfect one, so I hope that it's acceptable. :) As for ****Mirandy, they won't happen for a while, but bear with me!** I'm going to be on vacation, and it might be a while before I update again. Guess where I'm going? NEW YORK! :D Squeal! The place where the marvelous movie and story took place! As always, please review! Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Wish I owned it.**

******A/N: I'm finally back from my vacation! :) New York is AMAZING. I want to live there so badly... Anyways...I'm back now, and I tried to make this next chapter _super_ long since I was gone for so long...So here it is!**

To be honest, I took sleeping pills to knock me out. Usually, I would refrain from doing that since I hated the idea of drugs in my body, but I was already so worked up with exhilaration and stress that I knew that without them, I would not be very pleasant company tomorrow.

I woke up fully refreshed, which was a welcome surprise, since I'd never slept that well in the past couple of months. I yawned and sat up. My new sleeping accommodation was actually quite comfortable. I gave Emily and Serena back their bed a while ago after a lot of protesting, and claimed their comfy couch. The situation worked well. I always woke up before them anyways, so this way, I didn't have to wake them when I got my coffee in the wee hours of the morning. I also had started paying my fair share of the house bills, so I felt a little better about crashing with them. Stretching my arms over my head, I got up and showered and dressed while I wondered about the absence of my period. I should have gotten it by now, but I dismissed the uneasiness I felt and chalked it up to all the stress I felt during the last couple of weeks. I made my way back to the kitchen, still a little flustered. Shifting my focus away from my menstrual cycle, I then focused it on the promise I made myself yesterday night. I had promised that I would work on getting over Nate, so I plastered a grin on my face and began cooking.

Emily and Serena woke up to the smell of toast and eggs. After I assured Emily that I had made it low-fat as much as I could (by making the omelets with egg-whites only) she cautiously nibbled on them before eating all of it. I grinned and took a portion for myself. I still wasn't hungry, but I forced myself to eat at least half. I needed to gain weight to go back to my usual size 4. I looked like a stick. Serena complimented me when she was done with her meal, and I thanked her as I cleared everybody's place. I did the dishes while Serena and Emily got ready. Serena was going to hold down the fort with Jocelyn, so she left after giving Emily a kiss and me a hug. After double-checking everything for the umpteenth time, we made it to the airport on time and immediately spotted Nigel.

"Hello ladies," he smiled.

"Hey Nigel," we chorused together.

After going through the annoying airport security, we made our way to the gate, knowing that Miranda would already be there. She always arrived much earlier than we did, and I assumed she liked the peace and quiet it gave her. I pushed the sadness that came when I thought about the white-haired editor back down into my internal bottle and popped the cork in tight. For vowing that I would try and move on without pursuing Miranda, I was doing a crappy job so far. There was no point in trying to pursue her. She was a goddess and I was...well me. Besides, she could hurt me-NO. I scolded myself for falling into a momentary lapse of self-pity and depression and marched onto the private airplane after Nigel and Emily, lowering my eyes automatically before I could look into the pools of blue that I loved so much.

The scent of Miranda's signature perfume hit my nostrils, and I inhaled sharply before scanning my peripherals for Nigel. I spotted him and groaned. To get to him, I would have to pass by Miranda. The woman I was so desperately trying to distance myself from... Just being a couple of feet away from her hurt. Steeling myself, I looked up and saw that Miranda was staring right at me. Shit. I forced a smile on my face and tried to walk past her, but a hand shot out and held me. I gasped. Thank god that she had grabbed the arm that didn't have the bruise on it. Although it had almost disappeared, it was still a little tender, and her grabbing it would be painful.

"Sit by me Andréa," she said as she locked her eyes with mine, "we need to go over the schedule."

I nodded wordlessly, still stunned. She knew the schedule! I noticed that her eyes wandered up and down my body. I held my breath waiting for her assessment. It was spring, but I still had a couple of bruises that still stuck around, so I was wearing True Religion black jeans with a flowy blue blouse and Jimmy Choo wedges. She nodded and I breathed an inaudible sigh of relief as I carefully nudged past her to sit by the window. Of course she would make it difficult by not moving the slightest, but I was happy for the brief contact our legs made. I noticed her slightly flushed face before I sat down, but didn't think much of it. Before I could get the schedule out, the flight attendant announced over the speaker that we were going to take off, so I stuck my bag under the seat and turned to face out the window.

As the plane ascended into the air, and my stomach twisted as it always did when I flew, I felt Miranda stiffen next to me. I cautiously peeked at her and was surprised at what I saw. I'd only flown with her once in Paris, but I'd never sat right next to her before. Her hands were gripping the armrest for dear life, and her lips were pursed into a tight line as the rest of her flawless face was stone. Miranda hated flying- or at least the take-off, I surmised. I looked down and couldn't believe what my treacherous hand was doing. It was inching its way to Miranda's hand and I tried to stop it, but it was like it had a mind of its own. Or maybe I just didn't put up enough of a fight. When it reached its destination, it gently stroked the back of Miranda's hand, making both of us gasp softly. '_To hell with it,' _I thought. I looked into Miranda's eyes, and saw a flash of something. Tenderness? Warmth? Whatever it was, it spurred me on to carefully flip her hand over palm-side up and resume stroking the center of her hand. I broke eye contact with her and concentrated on drawing circles on her palm. I heard her breath hitch and I smiled. Her hand suddenly flipped on top of mine and she interlocked her fingers with mine. I caught my breath and looked up at her again. This time, there was no mistaking it. Miranda's eyes were full of warmth and there was a hint of her rare smile on her lips.

"Thank you Andréa," Miranda whispered. I smiled back at her in response and relaxed, trying to memorize the feel of her soft hand in mine- every single one of her lines and creases. After we were safely in the air, I reluctantly let go of her hand and bent over at the waist to retrieve the schedule in my bag. Feeling my blouse draw up a bit and expose my skin, I hastily rummaged around until I finally found the black binder where everything was stored and pulled it out before sitting up quickly. I could feel a blush creeping up when I saw Miranda looking at me intently, so I cleared my throat before saying, "Here it is."

Miranda took it from me, put on her glasses, and looked over it. She occasionally asked questions, but mostly kept silent as her sharp eyes scanned over the itinerary. I fiddled with my hands, my mind playing over the caress I gave her.

"Hi!" I was startled out of my musings of Miranda by an overly-cheery voice. I looked up and was met with a woman who looked to be about my age-26. Her blonde hair was stick-straight and there was a small blue bandana tied around her neck. I let my eyes wander lower and saw that she was dressed in the classic preppy-looking outfit of the flight attendant attire. Instead of a skirt though, she wore black slacks and black heels that accentuated her long legs. She was rather attractive, but too bad my heart already belonged to Miranda. I snapped out of my thoughts as soon as I realized that neither Miranda or I had responded.

"Hello-" I took the time to read her nametag- "Allie."

"Would you like anything?" Allie asked, her green eyes seemed to look only at me.

"No thank you," I replied, a little uncomfortable with the attention she was giving me.

"How about you Ms. Priestly?" she turned to Miranda. I cringed. Obviously she wasn't briefed on the Miranda Priestly rulebook.

"No," Miranda's ice-cold voice was like knives. I glanced at her and saw that she was staring at the girl with obvious hate in her eyes. I wondered why, but I didn't have time to think about it before Allie opened her big mouth again.

"If you _anything_," Allie stressed as she looked at me, "Don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks Allie," I nodded and saw that Miranda was tense again. Allie didn't move, and I groaned internally, silently cursing her.

"I'm sure Andréa got the point," Miranda almost spat. "Is there some reason why you're still here standing here?"

"Uh," Allie twiddled with her bandana, and I could see the hate of the offending object fill Miranda's eyes, "I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out after we land? Andrèa is it?"

I mentally thudded my head on an imaginary desk. She called me _Andrèa._ Like Miranda did. What an idiot.

"I'm sure," Miranda's voice was so low and scary, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, "that _Andréa_ has work to do. And you do too. If you do not leave my sight in the next couple of seconds, I will personally make sure that this _job_ will be the last you ever do. Don't ever bother us again." Then she sent Allie a scathing look that Medusa would have been proud of. I mouthed a 'sorry' to her, and she whimpered and shot away. I hesitantly looked at Miranda who was still staring at the spot that Allie had just vanished from, and then looked at Nigel and Emily who were gawking at us. Nigel looked positively gleeful and Emily's eyes were bugging out of her head. I blushed and Nigel's smile became wider when he saw my face.

"Andréa," Miranda whispered again. Although her voice was considerably calmer, her whole entire body posture was tense.

"Yes Miranda?" I squeaked.

"The plans look fine," Miranda responded.

I was shocked for a moment before I gathered my bearings and smiled at her. Her hand somehow found mine again and started rubbing the spot between my thumb and pointer finger. I could hardly form a coherent sentence, so when she started talking about something, it took a considerable amount of effort to drag myself back from cloud 9 and into the present. I didn't question her actions-as long as she was touching me, I was okay with it. I tried so very hard to listen to my own advice about distancing myself from Miranda, but apparently all of my good sense had flown out of the window. Great.

Miranda's calming voice soothed me, and we had a pleasant conversation about the twins- who were now 11-and Patricia. Somehow the conversation veered to Milan, and famous landmarks, and then designers. The whole time Miranda held my hand and stroked it gently. I tried to reciprocate, but she aways pushed my thumb back down with hers whenever I tried to. Our conversation went to art and literature, and I was surprised to learn that Miranda liked a lot of the things I did. I told her about being an author and how I had started writing a book, and she reciprocated by giving me the names of some publishing companies that would be good to send my manuscript in. In the back of my mind, I realized that during our whole entire discussion, Allie had heeded Miranda's advice and never bothered us again. Maybe she wasn't a complete idiot.

******A/N: ********Again, I cannot express my gratitude to everybody who has stuck with me since the beginning. And to all of the subscribers and reviews and other readers! Thank you! (Also. It's been 2 years since Paris, just in case if you were wondering.) **


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Lauren Weisberger owns Devil Wears Prada!**

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the constant support and reviews!**

Our landing went as expected, but since Miranda clutched my hand for dear life, I didn't really feel the harsh bounce of the tires when they hit the runway. I was in too much bliss. When the airplane finally came to a halt at the gate, I scrambled up and gathered all of my things from under the seat before turning to Miranda and assisting her with her bags. As Nigel, Emily, Miranda, and I exited, I didn't see any sign of the preppy blonde. Good.

We left the plane and since Miranda wouldn't let her precious luggage go through the baggage checkout, she already had it all taken care of so we didn't have to worry about getting them. I could tell Nigel and Emily were bursting at the seams with excitement, both trying to contain their urges to question me. I rolled my eyes affectionately. I knew that there could be nothing between Miranda and I- hell, I didn't even know if I was ready to give my heart to somebody else so freely again. I knew of course, that Miranda had owned it from the beginning, but it was unrequited so it didn't count. Having another person know that you love them and gave you their heart in return was a totally different thing from admiring from afar. Shaking my head slightly, I kept up with Miranda's brisk pace through the airport. A group of soccer players passed by us, all joking around and bantering in Italian. I saw Nigel eye one of the more muscular ones with a longing in his eyes and I had to suppress a giggle.

"Ciao bella ragazza!" a voice called.

I stumbled, totally shocked and turned around. A handsome man was standing a few away from me. He had wavy black locks, green eyes, and a little facial hair on his chin-something that would usually turn me off on a guy, but there was something about this one that I liked. An easy smile played on his lips, and I felt that he had an easy-going aura about him. I felt myself blush once I finally registered the words he told me.

"Hi," I responded with a small smile. I turned back around and saw that Miranda, Emily, and Nigel were still walking ahead. I looked at the gorgeous man and added, "I'm sorry but I have to go now. My boss and my friends are leaving."

"No problem miss," the dark-haired man replied in his sexy Italian accent. He moved swiftly towards me and grabbed my hand. I flinched before I realized that he had pressed a piece of paper in it. "Call maybe? I'm sure that you are here for Fashion Week, no? I would love to see you again."

My eyes got as big as saucers before I squeaked my thanks and hurried to catch up to the trio that was moving even farther away. I resumed my position next to Miranda who stared at me.

"There you are Andréa. Don't dawdle," Miranda sniffed.

"Yes Miranda," I automatically responded.

I hung in the back with Nigel and Emily. Nigel raised an eyebrow when he saw my flushed face and I held up the crumpled piece of paper that the soccer player gave me. Emily squealed before she clapped her hands over her mouth and looked at Miranda with round eyes. Apparently Miranda hadn't heard her exclamation, because she didn't comment on the redheads cry of surprise. I put a finger to my lips and mouthed 'we'll talk about it later.' We made our way to the black Mercedes that were waiting for us in front of the airport. Nigel sat in front and Miranda sat on the right side, leaving Emily and I silently fighting over who got to sit next to her. Of course I did, but I couldn't handle sitting so close to her again. I had spent the last eight hours sitting through pleasurable hell, and didn't want to spend the car ride going through that again. We didn't have much time, and I knew how much Miranda loved to be kept waiting, so I slid in beside her and sat rather stiffly. The driver told us that our luggage was already loaded up in the vehicle, and started to drive.

I realized that the note was still in my hand, so I snuck a glance at Miranda out of the corner of my eye and saw that she was absorbed in something on her iPhone. I pulled mine out as well and quickly changed the time forward 6 hours before turning it off and throwing it back into my purse and gently unfolding the crumpled note. I snuck another glance at Miranda. I was safe. I looked down at the piece of paper and read the words scrawled on it. It had a phone number and the name Emiliano Gallo scribbled after it_. _God. Even his name was sexy. I scooted over closer to Emily and showed her. Her vivid green eyes scanned it quickly before smiling and nodding enthusiastically.

"Emily," Miranda's cool voice made us jump, "is there some reason why you've decided to write secret notes like a school girl?"

"It's mine," I cut in. I gently pulled the paper out of Emily's hand and tucked it in my purse before Miranda had a chance to pluck it out of her hands and read it. "Sorry Miranda."

"Would you care to indulge me with the contents of that paper?"

"Just a note," I swallowed, "nothing special."

I wasn't lying, so why did I feel guilty? We rode the rest of the way to the Four Seasons in silence. When we got there, I hurried in first to check in and returned quickly with three keys. I gave one to Nigel, one to Miranda, and kept the last for Emily and I. Miranda allowed me to ride up the elevator with her, but it was just me. Nigel and Emily she stopped with a scathing glare, and I felt both honored and embarrassed. The ride up was quiet, just the way both of us liked it. It gave us time to think; time to unwind. The elevator dinged and we both stepped out at the same time. Miranda gave me a nod and swept into her Royal Suite while I opened the door to the Executive Suite and gasped.

It was gorgeous. I walked in the living area and was pleased at what I saw. The furniture was classy and modern. Miranda would approve of it- if her room was anything like mine. I passed the living area quickly and walked into the bedroom. It was marvelous. There was a king-sized bed with white bedding resting up against the wall, and a green chair sat opposite from it. A white vanity with potted flowers and a black chair rested against the wall next to the chair. There were two bedside tables next to the bed that bared white lamps and flowers. The ivory doors were open, causing the light green curtains to flutter in the wind. I spun around in a circle with my arms outstretched dramatically and fell on the bed. Thank the lord that my ribs had healed so fast!

"Andrea, you did an amazing job!" Emily's British voice wafted in from the living area. "This is all really beautiful!"

"You should see the bedroom Em!" I called back.

She walked in seconds later, and gasped like I had when she took in the room. "Bloody hell Andrèa!" I giggled in response. I stretched and folded my hands behind my head as I wriggled deeper in the mattress. Emily rushed over to the bed and plopped rather ungracefully onto the other side. I snorted. She was so light, she didn't even dip the mattress when she fell.

"Don't tell anybody about that!" Emily hissed, misinterpreting my snort for making fun of her for falling into bed.

"Wouldn't dream about it," I winked, "although I was snorting because I realized that you didn't even make the mattress move when you fell."

Emily chuckled and adopted the same pose as I had. There was a knock on the door, and Emily got up off the bed to go answer it. A man wheeled all of our luggage into our bedroom a short time later. I thanked him, gave him a tip, and he left with a flourished bow.

"The assistance here is even perfect!" Emily gushed as she stepped out on the patio. The wind blew her red hair behind her and she tilted her face up to the sun with her eyes closed. "Marvelous. You should try this Andy!"

"Ugh. Too tired," I tossed a cover pillow to Emily's side of the bed and snuggled deeper into the regular ones.

"Emily? Andy?" a deep voice called. Both of us screamed before realizing it was just Nigel coming down the 'private' staircase with his arms outstretched in front of him. I chucked the pillow (that I tossed over to Emily's side) at his face.

"They're called PRIVATE!" I shrieked, still trying to calm my heartbeat down.

"Well Six, they're only private to those who aren't as chummy as we are," Nigel smirked.

"Chummy?" I scoffed.

"Don't criticize my word choice Andy Sachs!" Nigel pretended to be offended. "You should know of all people that an expanded vocabulary is essential to being a writer."

"I don't think 'chummy' is at the top of the 'astounding word choice list,'" I retorted.

"Whatever. By the way, my hotel room is amazing. Good job Six!"

"No problem," I grinned.

"So Ms. Sachs, tell us alllllll about that annoying flight attendant and the hunk you met!" Nigel said gleefully.

"Yes Andy! Tell us!" Emily sat back down on the bed.

I sat cross-legged and pulled another pillow on my lap to rest my elbows on it.

"Ok. Now that I'm in sleep-over mode," I giggled, "I shall tell you all the gory details. Even though there weren't any."

"Oh do tell Six. Don't keep Uncle Nigel waiting!" Nigel waggled his eyebrows and copied my pose, but he batted his eyelashes dramatically. He looked ridiculous and I couldn't help but laugh. I told them about Allie, and how Miranda had used her Ice Queen voice on her after Allie had asked me to hang out.

"Don't you get it Andy?" Emily almost shouted. "She was _jealous_!"

"No she wasn't," I argued, "she probably was upset that Allie interrupted her looking over the schedule."

Emily threw her hands up in the air. "What will it take to get it through your thick skull Andrea!"

I shrugged and clutched the pillow tighter. "I don't have a chance Em."

"Oh dear lord," Nigel rubbed his eyes.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"You can't see what's right in front of you Andy!" Nigel threw up his hands.

I shook my head. "No Nigel. There's nothing there. Please stop! I can't take it!"

"Alright," Nigel finally relented before adding, "So what's with the Italian guy? Is he hot?"

"Extremely! His name is Emiliano Gallo," I pretended to fan myself, "and he is smokin'! His name sounds like a designer. He gave me his phone number, but I don't think that I'm going to call him."

"Why?" Emily shrieked.

"Yes why?!" Nigel echoed, a look of sheer shock spreading across his face.

"Because I can't allow myself to become vulnerable again. Look what happened with Nate? It may sound crazy, but I'm a little wary of men right now," I sighed and cracked a smile. "Except for you, Nigel. But I'm not ready to pursue another relationship so soon. I can't handle any of that happening again. That's partly why I'm fighting you guys with all the Miranda nonsense. I wouldn't survive if I entered a relationship with her and she hurt me."

At the end of my short monologue, Nigel and Emily sat quietly. I loved both of them to bits, but they didn't know how to give me what I needed. In fact, I didn't even know what I needed. Sympathy? Advice? A good cry again? Another pep talk from Nigel? A slap on my face? I sighed unhappily. Emily noticed and she enveloped me in a hug before Nigel joined in. I giggled in between our hug sandwich.

"Thank you guys so much," I whispered.

After that lovely conversation, Nigel settled himself on the edge of the bed again and I laid my head on Emily's lap as she stroked my shoulder-length locks. We relaxed and had a friendly conversation like chums do. A gentle cough rang out, and we all shrieked again when we saw a figure standing at the top of the 'private' staircase. Maybe booking our rooms like that was a mistake since apparently all it was good for was giving us all a scare. I looked closer and saw that it was Miranda. Her crystal blue eyes were glaring straight at Emily and me.

"Told you," Emily breathed quietly in my ear.

I ignored her and gently sat up, trying to look dignified as I did so.

"When you three are done screaming like a bunch of banshees and Emily is done pawing at Andréa's hair, I suggest that we go to dinner before we miss our reservations," Miranda bit out.

I gasped and looked over at the bedside table at the clock. It was 6:51. Our reservations were at 7:45, and to Miranda, being on time was late. Crap!

"I guess time flew by," I stammered nervously, looking up at Miranda. I ran my eyes up and down her outfit. She looked gorgeous in her Fendi Chiffon v-neck dress. The black color with the subtle blue stripes and puff sleeve looked wonderful on her. Realizing that I was staring at her body like a pervert, I quickly snapped my attention away and gathered my bearings.

"Right. So we'll just get dressed then," I said as I climbed off of the comfortable bed and stood up.

"Hmm," Miranda responded with a purse of her lips. Crap again. Nigel smiled, got off the bed, and walked up the staircase to his room before closing the door with a quiet click. Miranda was still standing there, drumming her fingers on the railing.

"Uh, we'll get dressed Miranda," Emily said with a raised eyebrow as she too, got off the bed.

"Hurry up. That's all," Miranda turned and strutted into her own room with a softer click than Nigel's. Emily and I looked at each other briefly before rolling our eyes simultaneously and opening our bags to find the cocktail dresses we packed. We got dressed and made up in record time, and when I looked at the clock again, it was 7:08. Not too bad.

"Ready?" Emily said as she stepped out of the bathroom, fastening an earring in. "Andy, you look amazing!"

"Thank Em, you do too," I replied. And she did.

She looked pretty in her modest Yves Saint Laurent dress. It was black and white, and she accented it with a yellow belt. She wore black 4-inch heels and gold hoop earrings to complete the look. I had donned a white off-the shoulder Valentino dress, and accented it with silver heels and earrings. I hoped it would be acceptable for Miranda. Everything I did was for her. I yawned. I felt fatigued, but I chalked it up to the flight, the time difference, and the prior weeks where I didn't sleep. (Everytime I did fall asleep, I had nightmares about Nate.)

I climbed up Miranda's staircase when Emily climbed up Nigel's. I knocked on the door twice and waited for Miranda to answer it. When she did, I held my breath and waited for her appraisal. Her eyes raked down my body, leaving tingling sensations behind in all of the places her blue eyes touched. A nod. Whew.

"Are you ready Andréa?" Miranda drawled.

"Yes Miranda," I responded and walked back down the staircase, seeing Emily and Nigel descending down the other. I grabbed my clutch from the table in the living area, and held the door open for them. I couldn't wait to get back from dinner. My feet hurt already, I was exhausted, and all I wanted to do was to fall right back down on that soft bed and sleep for the rest of Fashion Week. Sparing one last longing glance at the comfy bed, I walked through the door after Emily had crossed, and let the door shut behind me.

**A/N: I don't know if the Italian is translated right, so please correct me if I'm wrong. Also, just fyi, the Executive Suite really does look like that. I did my research! :) See you on the next chapter my lovely readers!**

**Ps. It was my birthday a couple of days ago, and I got DEVIL WEARS PRADA! :D I watched it almost immediately! Ok. Just thought I would share that. :) Thanks guys.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Devil Wears Prada does not belong to me. Sad face.**

**A/N: Thank you everybody for the awesome reviews! I know that it has been a month since Andy has walked out of Nate's life, and Miranda still doesn't know, but I promise that she'll find out in time! Thank you for sticking with me!**

Bitch. Whore. You're ugly. So ugly. The whispers were loud in the darkness. I whipped my head back and forth, trying to find the source of the sound. Trying not to scream, I clutched my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes as tight as they would go. Counting to ten, I opened my eyes and found Miranda standing in front of me.

"Do hurry up Andréa. You know how much I love to be kept waiting," her whisperery voice resonated through my ears.

I looked down. I was in the white Valentino dress. Looking back up and meeting Miranda's eyes, I realized that there was no darkness. I was safe in her presence. We were leaving the restaurant and I was holding us up by standing stupidly and blinking at her.

"Right. Sorry Miranda," I breathed a sigh of relief.

She merely touched the space under her ear and spun away, her dress billowing out behind her. I hurried after her, not noticing anything around me but her retreating form. She was moving too fast. It was ridiculous. I couldn't believe she could move that fast in her heels, since I was practically tripping over mine in haste to catch up with her. Deciding that the heels were impossible to run in, I quickly kicked them off and picked them up before returning to my chase after her. I knew she would probably kill me for taking them off, but really. What was she expecting? There was no way in hell I could catch up to her in my 4-inch death traps.

Miranda became blurry as she moved further and further away. I couldn't help myself. I was terrified that she was leaving me. "Miranda!" She didn't respond. She just kept rushing away, her dress becoming a swirl of black and blue. I pushed myself even harder, my bare feet slapping against the pavement. I didn't even realize that we had exited the restaurant until that point. Suddenly, she was gone. Night descended on me, and there was blackness everywhere again. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my own erratic breathing, which was getting heavier by the second. A bright light shone on my face, and I looked up before I dropped the heels to protect my face with my hands.

"Oh Andy. You are a fool." Nate stepped out of the shadows. I gasped. Where had he come from? He sauntered even closer to me-not even an arm's length apart. I started hyperventilating-partly from my running and partly from fear. I tried to back away, but found that I couldn't. My legs wouldn't move. He stepped even closer and stroked my hair, his fingers tracing the chocolate tresses all the way down to where they stopped on the top of my breastbone. I shuddered when my eyes traveled his fingers down my chest, but try as I might, I couldn't shake him off. He looked at me lazily before grabbing my hand and yanking it to his chest. I cried out and he stepped even closer to me, resting his check against mine. I tried to recoil, but his firm grip held me hostage.

"You are so ugly," Nate hissed in my ear. I tried to ignore him and look for Miranda over his shoulder. "Stop that. She's long gone. Did you really think that she would ever wait for you? I can't believe that she's put up with you this long."

"Help!" I shouted while frantically trying to find Miranda. I had to make sure that she had gotten away. She had to be safe. The voices started again. Hideous. Slut. Size 6. "I'm not a size 6 anymore! I'm a size 2!" I was desperate. Why wasn't anybody coming?

"Because nobody is here to save you," Miranda jeered. She appeared seemingly out of thin air, and she wore an expression of pure malice. It scared me, but before I could ponder it, Nate turned around and stalked towards her.

"NO!" I yelled. This was my fault. Miranda wouldn't be here if I didn't shout for help. Everything was my fault. My only goal was to protect her from him. What she said earlier had to have been directed towards Nate. "Miranda! Get out of here!"

Miranda ignored me and smiled at Nate. She embraced him and kissed him ferociously. My mouth dropped open and my eyes filled with tears. "Miranda?" She turned around and pinned me with her glacial stare.

"Shut up Andréa. Nate is right. You don't deserve me. I cannot for the life of me imagine how you've managed to keep Nate all of those years. He should be with somebody perfect. Somebody beautiful. Somebody like me." She resumed to kissing Nate again while I watched in agony. The voices started up, but this time I knew it was Miranda's voice saying all of the awful words. Their clothes melted off, and I could see _everything._ I reached my arms out to my Miranda, but I couldn't move from the position I was in. I started screaming and couldn't stop.

I woke up with a jolt. I was covered in sweat, my fist was pushed in my mouth, and I could taste blood. Still disoriented, I looked around and calmed down once I saw the hotel room and heard Emily snoring softly beside me. Shoving my fist in my mouth was a trick I had adopted some time ago when Serena had woken me up the night after the rape had happened, and informed me that I was screaming. The nightmares had continued, and I tried everything I could think of to make my yelling quieter before finding out that cramming my fist in my mouth muffled the sound. Emily and Serena had gotten used to it though after the second solid week of me convincing them that I was alright, but I still wanted to be courteous and not wake them.

I guess that Harry Potter was in my subconscious tonight, since the image of Nate and Miranda intertwined was like Hermione and Harry. Shuddering, I remembered that Nigel, Emily, Miranda, and I had a lovely dinner with several upcoming designers last night, and we came back to the hotel exhausted. I had barely gotten changed into my pajamas before collapsing into bed and falling asleep. Miranda didn't abandon me, and Nate wasn't in Milan.

Thank god that it was just a nightmare and not real life. I rolled over and looked at the clock. 4:45 am. It would be 10:45 pm in New York. Sighing, I sat up in bed and stretched my neck from side to side before getting up. I looked at Emily to make sure she was still asleep before quietly opening the balcony doors and stepping out into the crisp air. Since the sun hadn't risen yet, the summer heat wasn't yet present, and it was actually really nice out. Rubbing my bruised fist absentmindedly, I reveled in the cool breeze that blew around me and fluffed my hair out. With some regret, I turned back to the bed and walked in the room before shutting the door softly behind me with a click.

I walked to my Louis Vuitton luggage (courtesy of Serena) and pulled out a sports bra, tanktop, and running shorts. I stumbled to the restroom and flipped the light switch. Blinded by the sudden light, I squinted when I fumbled to get my clothes on. When I pulled the sports bra on, my breasts were a little tender and I felt bloated. Hopefully that meant that my period was coming soon. PMS symptoms sucked though.

I pulled my chocolate tresses back in a ponytail and looked at my fist in the light. It wasn't that bad. It was bruised and bleeding, but I've definitely had worse. I went back into the bedroom, and since my eyes weren't adjusted to the darkness, I blindly staggered around to find the first-aid kit. After many bumps and curse words, I finally found it and crept towards the bathroom again. Hissing as the antiseptic stung the cuts, I bandaged it quickly and wrote a hasty note to Emily in case she woke up before I returned. I pulled my tennis shoes on, grabbed the room key, and slipped out the door.

After taking the elevator down, I walked out of the hotel and started jogging. I didn't care where I went-almost every part of Milan was gorgeous. I started out slowly since I hadn't run in a while, but soon picked up speed. Sweat trickled down my neck and into my cleavage, but I kept pushing myself to go further. Running felt good. It didn't feel oppressive- like my dream had. It was wonderful. The nightmare had me unnerved, and the fresh air helped me focus. That's why I loved running; it cleared my mind and helped me think. My breath came in short puffs and sweat was running down my brow, and I absently wondered how far I had gone. Looking at the street sign, I quickly calculated it to be about 5 miles by the street name.

I slowed down gradually before coming to a complete halt and resting my hands on my knees while I tried to gain my equilibrium back. After about a 10-minute break, my breathing had calmed down and my heart had slowed. I put my hands under my ponytail and tilted my head back, enjoying the first few rays of sunshine on my face. I yawned and began the 5-mile run back to the Five Seasons.

Before walking into the hotel, I checked myself over. Not pretty. My tanktop was stained with sweat, and I felt disgusting. Oh well. Miranda didn't have a meeting until 10, so I had time to wash up. Panting, I entered the hotel and walked through the lobby with my hands on my hips, fully intent on getting to the elevator, but fate had other plans for me.

"Andréa."

That voice chilled me to the bone. It was so like the one in my nightmare, and it sent shivers down my spine. As I turned around to face the source of the voice, I had to remind myself that she was a completely different Miranda than the one from my dreams. She was sitting with her right leg crossed over her left, and her signature glasses were dangling in her hand while a stack of papers were in front of her. Her face was softer than it was in the dream.

"Miranda," I hurried over to where she was sitting, "is there something I can do for you?"

I felt self-conscious about the way I looked, as well as how I smelled-although hopefully my deodorant worked and I smelled like fresh berries. I mentally snorted. That was probably highly unlikely.

"First off Andréa, why are you soaked in sweat?" Miranda drawled as she looked at me with those eyes I loved getting lost in.

"I, uh, went running," I muttered eloquently.

"Hmm," Miranda tapped her glasses on the side of her face while studying me intently, "and what on earth happened to your hand?"

I couldn't really well say '_well Miranda. I had a nightmare where you left me and almost had sex with my ex-boyfriend that was abusive.' _So I settled on saying, "When I got up this morning, it was still dark and I didn't want to wake up Emily by turning on a light, so I left them off. I was quite clumsy, and I knocked into something."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," I gave her my best smile. The one that I usually reserved for people who I loved- like my parents, Emily, Nigel, and Nate. (Although the last one not anymore.) She seemed momentarily thrown before she hummed in response.

"Well Andrèa, did you have a good night sleep with _Emily?_" Miranda practically spat.

Her sudden mood startled me. I barely contained another smile. Maybe Nigel and Emily were right, and Miranda _was_ jealous. That idea was absurd, and I scolded myself for even thinking such a thought.

"I did. The bed was very comfortable. Did you?" I responded. I still was really uncomfortable, since I was still sweaty. I didn't want to make small talk with Miranda. In fact, I didn't want to even want to be in her presence right now. All I wanted was a cold shower and a tall glass of water.

"Yes. You made acceptable arrangements for us Andréa."

"Good. I'm glad."

There was silence for a little bit while Miranda looked back over her papers, and I shifted awkwardly on my feet. "Um Miranda?" I cringed. Not a good start.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind-I mean," I blabbered, "would it be okay if I go back up to my room and shower?"

"I'll be done here in a few minutes and we can go up together. Sit," Miranda gestured to the chair across from her.

"Uh, I'm still really sweaty Miranda. I'd prefer to just stand," I laughed nervously.

"Suit yourself," Miranda haughtily replied.

True to her word, she was done after making a couple more marks on her papers and she stood up. I rushed to grab the papers on the table before her arm intercepted mine.

"I've got them Andréa," a hint of a smirk was on her lips.

"Right," I replied.

We made our way to the elevator, and Miranda started talking to me about the day's schedule. Miranda had a meeting that lasted the morning before there was a runway show scheduled in the afternoon, and then we had a dinner. Pretty easy day. We reached our floor, and we stopped outside of Miranda's suite.

"Go get cleaned up Andréa, and be ready to leave by 9:20," Miranda instructed.

"Sounds good," I masked my surprise. I don't know why she needed me at the meeting, but I was willing to do anything for her. I turned to go to my room.

"Oh, and Andréa?" Miranda asked. I turned back around.

"Yes Miranda?"

"Will you-" Miranda seemed to be hesitating before she pulled herself together. "Will you be running again tomorrow?"

Right. She wants to know if I'll be up at the crack of dawn again. "I don't know. Maybe. I've been extremely tir-" I cut myself off. "Maybe."

"Alright," Miranda said after staring at me for a while. "That's all."

I turned back to face my door with a smile on my face. I already knew that I was going to get up before the sun rose to spend more time with her.

**(A/N: Just to clear things up, Andy has a great relationship with her parents-she just doesn't want to burden them with her rape. Thanks everybody! As always, please review. )**


	12. Chapter 12

******A/N: Hi again. Sorry for the wait..schools started and I'm extremely busy :( Thanks everybody! :) I LOVE reading all of the reviews and PM's and etc. :) You guys rock!**

I still didn't understand why Miranda made me come with her to this meeting, since she never had her assistants accompany her before, but here I was. Sitting next to Miranda, trying really hard not to inhale her perfume as I hurriedly scribbled notes. The meeting was with the editor of Italian Runway, and she and Miranda were "negotiating" things. Rather, Miranda was making all of the important decisions while the poor editor was scribbling down notes like I was. When that part was done, a file of nameless Italian designers filed into the conference room to try and make their mark on the fashion industry by showing the two editors (mostly Miranda) their collections. Predictably, Miranda didn't like any of them, except for a young man named Clio Santino. His design aesthetic was very classy and modern, and I would've worn most of the clothes he showed.

Miranda ended the meeting with a soft 'that's all' and she swept out of the room with me following close behind. I was exhausted, although I couldn't figure out why. I mean, I had gotten up at the crack of dawn, but I still had enough energy to run. Usually exercise helped wake me up in the mornings, but today it didn't do its job. I felt bloated and lethargic. I must have trailed behind, because Miranda's sharp voice penetrated through my hazy thoughts.

"Andréa?"

She halted abruptly, and I almost ran into her before I caught myself. She peered at me, and I returned the look with guarded eyes while I tried to fidget as little as I could stand. I had to keep my features schooled since I would do something irrational (like burst out into tears and hug her) if I let my 'happy mask' drop. It was first 'real' time that I had actually stared into her beautiful eyes in a long time. Sure I had glanced at her and looked to the corner of her eye to make it look like I had made eye contact before, but I hadn't actually _looked _at her. And I missed it. Miranda's eyes, unlike mine, were open, unguarded, letting me see _her_. The old cliché about the eyes being the windows to the soul was definitely true in this case. Her irises were drawing me in, and my heart swelled up with all of the feelings that I had tried to repress before. I looked away before I ruined my façade and answered.

"Yes Miranda?"

I could feel Miranda staring at my dropped head. I realized that it was a position of ultimate submissiveness. Feeling a cool hand gently tilt my head up, I suppressed a gasp when I looked into her crystal blue orbs once more.

"Have lunch with me?"

Those 4 words filled me with such happiness I could hardly contain myself. Depression clawed at me every single second of every single day, but being in Miranda's presence took some of that away. She was my drug that kept me alive and going each day. And I loved her for that, even though she didn't even know it.

"I would love to."

"Hmm. I'll pick the restaurant Andréa," Miranda said, shocking me. She _never_ chose restaurants. It was always Emily or me. Her finger was still under my chin, forcing me to look at her, and I gave her my best smile which seemed to throw her equilibrium off a bit. My smile, I've been told, can melt hearts. Apparently my combination of full, pouty lips, and large innocent doe eyes were the perfect match for the perfect smile. Although, I must disagree with the 'innocent' part of my eyes now. They had lost most of it when Nate had started being abusive.

I came so close to squeezing the life out of Miranda, but I snapped out of it before I got fired for sexual harassment and became blacklisted. Her slender finger was still on my chin, so I nodded carefully, trying to convey with my smile that it meant a lot to know that she was taking the time to eat with me. She wordlessly nodded back, and put her hand on the small of my back to guide me to the elevator. I was breathless. This gorgeous creature was touching me, but I could not understand why. Before I could go down the road of 'to ugly for her' though, I tried to push the voices in my head away and focused on the tingly nerve that Miranda was currently possessing.

I sighed quietly as we descended in the elevator. And when we got out, I was grateful for Miranda's hand guiding me. My legs were jelly, and I had no idea where we were going.

* * *

"White is a good color on you Andréa," Miranda commented as she sipped her wine.

"Thank you," I replied as my cheeks flushed and I quickly looked away to hide my burning face.

She had taken me to a lovely restaurant that was tucked away from the usual bustling crowd. It was small on the outside, and I would've walked by it without a second thought if I was by myself.

"It's a wonderful contrast to your beautiful pale skin," Miranda continued.

A small gasp slipped out of my mouth when she uttered those words. I never, in my wildest dreams, would've imagined that she would find me attractive. I peered up at her through lowered lashes and gave her a tentative smile. "Thank you again." I sounded like a broken record.

Since I hadn't eaten much due to my lack of appetite in the past months, my stomach couldn't handle the rich Italian food so I ordered a salad to slowly introduce 'real' food back into my system. Poking at a piece of chicken, I ran my fingers through my hair and crossed my legs under the table.

"So," I swallowed a bite of salad and carefully chewed before swallowing, "are there any designers this year that you find...pleasing this season?"

"Prada has always matched my expectations," Miranda responded, tracing her fingers across the rim of her glass. I watched it, memorized for a while before I snapped out of it.

"Anybody else?"

"Versace has always designed collections that I find acceptable. I hope to feature them in a spread for Runway," Miranda took a dainty bite of her steak and continued. "And of course Valentino will be there. His collections are always wonderful."

"I still can't believe a top designer knows who I am," I chuckled. "It was amazing to meet him."

"Yes," Miranda said. "I'm glad that I introduced you to him."

"Mmm," I agreed.

"What are you going to wear to the runway show?" Miranda changed the subject.

"I don't know yet," I responded truthfully. "Probably either the Vivienne Westwood dress or the Alexander McQueen. I didn't pack that many fancy dresses. How about you?"

"A red Dolce and Gabbana dress."

_Wow._ I nodded in response, trying to control my libido when I pictured Miranda in red. I yawned before I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry Miranda."

"For what?"

I frowned slightly-usually Miranda would have already chastised me. "For yawning?" I phrased it as a question, since I was confused.

"Andréa, you were up at five this morning, running. I would say that you have a reason to be exhausted. I shall get the bill, and we can go back to the hotel so you can rest before the show," Miranda waved the waiter over before I could get a word in edgewise. Miranda's behavior was strange. She touched me again, called me pretty, and pardoned my lack of social skills. _Maybe,_ a little voice whispered, _she likes you too._ I stomped on it hard, effectively squishing it.

Miranda rose from the table and I hurriedly followed suit, throwing my napkin carelessly to the side of my plate. We rode back to the hotel, making small talk. Miranda didn't touch me again, and I found myself both relieved and sad that she didn't. When we got to our rooms, I thanked Miranda for a wonderful morning, and then let myself into my suite. I hadn't even taken two steps in before I was bombarded with questions.

"Andy! How was it? Was it like a date? Did she pay? Did you have an awkward conversation? You do know that she didn't need you this morning, right?"

"Hello to you too Em," I joked. I slid my purse strap off of my shoulder and dropped it into the nearest chair after I dropped the room key on the table. I made my way over to where Emily was sitting, and plopped on the couch beside her. Kicking off my heels, I tucked my legs up underneath me and gave her a hug. "It was lovely. She took me to a small restaurant that had a really good chicken caesar salad."

"So it was a date!" Emily squealed.

"No!" I protested loudly. "It was strictly business."

"Did you talk about 'business' while you were eating?"

"Well, indirectly. We talked about the runway show this afternoon. And what we would be wearing..." I trailed off. "We didn't really talk about that much, now that I think about it."

"Well, anything else happen?" Emily's green eyes were dancing with excitement, which I'm sure my face mirrored hers.

"She _touched_ me," I almost whispered.

"She's done it before!"

"I mean, on my _back_," I shivered, thinking about her feathery light touch. "Like my lower back!"

"Wait, your butt?"

"NO!" I flushed. "It was the space in between. Not my upper back, but not my butt either. Kind of where my spine ended."

"Ah," Emily nodded.

"She also said that I looked pretty in white," I couldn't help the goofy grin that slowly spread across my face.

At that, Emily squealed. "That's awesome!"

"Yeah. Pretty remarkable," I giggled.

Emily grabbed my hands and we engaged in a silent scream together as we scrunched up our faces. I was becoming convinced Miranda liked me back, but of course, it was probably my love-struck imagination. I tried to keep my wits around myself and pull myself together, but every time I tried, I pictured her soft eyes looking into mine and failed.

"Gosh Andy," Emily shook her head in disbelief, "I can't even imagine."

"Me neither," I chuckled.

Emily looked over at the clock. "We have an hour until we should probably leave."

"CRAP!" My hand flew up to my forehead. "So much for my nap."

I stood up and ran to the closet before I pulled out all the dresses Emily and I had packed-which were a lot- and spread them all out on the bed. She and I-well mostly me- wasted about fifteen minutes of our precious time just trying to pick out a suitable dress. I knew that I told Miranda what I was going to wear already, but I couldn't decide which one I should wear between the two, or if I should wear something completely different and surprise her. After careful deliberation, I decided on the Alexander McQueen dress. It was a black strapless dress with gold embroidered detail on the bodice. (I loved the Closet for supplying both Emily and I with gorgeous dresses and accessories that neither of us could've afforded on our own.) I slipped on a pair of sky-high strappy black heels that had a strap which ran up the bridge of my foot and above the ankle before it wrapped around the back. With the little time I had left, I used a curling iron that made my hair lay in soft curls that framed my face nicely.

Emily was wearing a nude Gucci strapless dress with tan pumps, but she accessorized it with a brightly colored necklace so it wouldn't look so bland. The primary focus of her outfit was her face. She had straightened her red hair so it hung just past her collarbones, and wore brightly colored eyeshadow that really made her green eyes pop. Snatching a Christian Louboutin clutch and swiping an extra coat of mascara on my already made-up face, I checked my reflection quickly before heading out the door with Emily right behind me.

Miranda and Nigel were waiting for us in the lobby. I was right. She was absolutely breath-taking in red. My breathing hitched as we approached, and I had to forcibly remove my eyes away from her tantalizing backside and focus my attention on something-_anything_ else. Miranda turned around and gave both of us a sweep-over before allowing a tiny smile to creep onto her face. "Acceptable," she murmured. I felt like jumping up and down while punching the air, but refrained and instead grinned back at her. We swept out of the Four Seasons and into a waiting car that would drive us to the fashion show.

* * *

It was marvelous. I loved going to Runway shows and seeing all of the beautiful clothes that designers have poured their souls into. I also took the opportunity to study Miranda's facial expressions. I counted a total of four nods and nine pursing of the lips, which was actually pretty good, considering that the designers had large collections of almost fifteen pieces each. After the show, I hung back with Nigel and Emily while Miranda was busy giving interviews and getting her picture taken with famous designers. Valentino was indeed there, and I had the privilege of meeting him again, shocked that he still remembered me.

After Miranda had given countless photos and interviews, we left to go to the dinner. I was still tired, and couldn't figure out why I had sudden fatigue within the past couple of days. I knew that I hadn't had a decent night's sleep after that night, but it was getting ridiculous. I was tired of being tired! I found myself standing by myself, as Emily went to the restroom, and Miranda and Nigel were talking to other editors/designers.

"Hello, remember me?"

I gasped, startled and turned. There in all of his stunning-ness stood Emiliano Gallo. He was wearing a dark suit, which really accentuated his dark features.

"Uh..." I stuttered.

He let out a loose easy chuckle, and grabbed two small flutes from passing waiters. He handed one to me, and I sipped it carefully, not wanting to become intoxicated.

"Why haven't you called?" his eyes were playful though.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I just haven't had time, and I don't know if I want to indulge in a fling. You were right before, I'm only here for Fashion Week, so I'll be leaving soon. Besides, I can't handle getting close to someone again so soon."

"Again?"

I groaned internally. "Well, um. Yes. My previous boyfriend was...abusive. He beat me and stole my innocence," My eyes filled up with tears. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"No, no. It's alright. I'm sorry I asked and I'm so sorry that it happened to you," Emiliano gasped. "You seem like such a lovely lady!"

I smiled a wobbly smile at him. "Thank you."

He handed me his handkerchief and I gently dabbed at my eyes, feeling embarrassed when more tears joined the first few. I stained the cloth with black streaks, but when I looked at him apologetically, he didn't seem mad at all. Just sympathetic.

"So it occurred to me, that I do not even know your name," he tapped his chin. "But you know mine. That is not fair, no?"

"Andrea Sachs," I responded. "Everybody calls me Andy though."

"Andréa," of course the one person who didn't call me that showed up.

Before my brain could even fully register her presence, her scent enveloped me and with a jolt, I felt her arm wrap around my back and her hand rested just below my right shoulder.

"What did you do to her?" Miranda's voice was ice cold as she glared daggers at Emiliano.

I had so many emotions swirling around me, it was hard to focus. The love of my life was holding me and defending me because she thought that the man across from me had hurt me. I couldn't sort all of the feelings I had, so I focused on protecting Emiliano from her.

"It wasn't his fault!" I interjected, looking at up at Miranda before warning Emiliano with my eyes that he should say nothing about why I had cried. "I promise, Miranda."

I was both physically and mentally exhausted. I couldn't handle her so close, so I had allowed a few tears to slip out. She looked at me and wiped away the new moisture that had gathered under my eyes. I gasped softly and fluttered my eyes closed, parting my lips a bit as I savored her touch. I heard her breath hitch, and opened my eyes again in shock. She let her fingers drop away and looked away from me to glare at him one last time. She nodded curtly and said, "We will be going now. Good-bye."

"I'll text you," I whispered to his panic-stricken face. He nodded and made a hasty retreat.

After he left, I realized that Miranda still had her arm around me, her grip tight, but not painful. She was the closest to me than she'd ever been before.

"Miranda," I shyly whispered.

She stepped in front of me and cupped my face with both hands. I trembled. She looked directly into my eyes and asked, "Are you sure he didn't hurt you Andréa?"

"I promise," I breathed back. I tentatively reached up and covered her hands with mine.

"What did you mean when you said 'I'll text you'?" Miranda's voice hardened.

"He gave me his number on a sheet of paper. That was what Emily and I were reading in the car on the way to the hotel," I said. When Miranda's eyes flashed dangerously and she tried to withdraw her hands, I gripped them tighter and said fiercely, "I wasn't going to contact him though. I wasn't." I repeated. She softened and nodded in understanding. Suddenly, I realized where we were and panicked when I looked around. Luckily nobody had spotted us, since we were towards the back.

"It's alright Andréa," Miranda murmured, bringing my attention back to her.

I inhaled sharply, but before I could do anything, she pulled away from me. My hands stung from the sudden loss of contact, and my heart constricted painfully. I looked away and tried to regulate my breathing. I could not fall apart in front of her. Obviously I had misread the signals, and it was all my fault. She didn't want anything to do with me. I was just a silly girl who obviously had no control over her tear ducts. I coughed and yawned to try and cover up my eyes that were misting over _again_.

"So, uh, is there anything you want me to do?" I was proud that my voice didn't shake.

"Andréa-"

"What is that smell?" I cut her off and looked around. The awful scent was pungent, and I soon found the source. A waiter who was passing us was carrying a plate full of fish appetizers. It made my stomach flip, and I knew that I was going to lose the salad I ate for lunch. I clapped a hand over my mouth, gathered my dress with my other hand, and hastily retreated to the nearest bathroom. I never looked back at Miranda for fear my soul would break even more than it already had.

**Hopefully this long chapter will make up for my lack of updating! :) As always, please R&R! More reviews=more chapters :) Thanks. PS. Miranda is taller than Andy in my head. :) Also, sorry for me reviewing my own story! My sister thought it would be funny...it only happened ONCE though! PROMISE :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Usual.**

**A/N: Thanks everyone! I'm going to write a little bit from the perspective of Miranda now, just to shake things up :) Also, heymovie1, I don't know yet... but I'm planning on it to be a long one :)**

**MPOV**:

My hands burned from where I touched the alluring brunette. Her skin was like silk, and when she covered her hands over mine, it took all of my resolve not to kiss her right then and there. It hurt when I saw her wounded face after I had stepped back to create distance between us, but I had no choice. We were in a crowded place, and I couldn't risk anybody seeing us in that position. I was fully prepared to take my Andréa back to the hotel so we would be alone, and I could talk to her, but she had turn ashen when a waiter passed by with a row of fish on his plate and fled. It puzzled me. Why would Andréa be affected by fish? The aroma wasn't pungent, yet something had obviously been wrong. The awful part of me marveled how gorgeous she looked in the dress when she spun around. The Alexander McQueen fit her beautifully, and I could not help my eyes when they ravished her in the lobby of the hotel. They were desperate to consume her beauty.

Now that I think about it, she had started acting strangely about a month ago. Something had happened to my Andréa, and I felt helpless. I could not help her if I did not know what was wrong. I had taken her out to lunch in hope that she would tell me, but she never did. Yet she always seemed a little brighter after our outings, and I reveled in the fact that she was happier, but I missed her warm brown gaze lingering on me. She almost never made direct eye contact anymore, and I longed for her doe eyes looking into mine again. I needed her. That's all.

**APOV:**

My stomach felt awful, and I felt like throwing up again for the second time. I looked in the mirror at my reflection, and hated the person staring back at me. She was so wimpy and pathetic. _Miranda does not like you. Get over it._ I growled and turned away. Pulling the door open, I cautiously checked the hallway to make sure nobody was out there. My eyes were probably red from the combination of tearing up and my gag reflexes, and I didn't want anybody seeing me like this. Blowing out a breath of air in relief when I saw nobody, I hastened down the carpeted hall and out the front door. Almost tripping in my haste to get down the stairs, I ran to a cab that was residing at the curb, hopped in, and panted out the address of the hotel.

Leaning back in the seat, I was taken back to that night- although now, I was wearing a very expensive dress and heartbroken for a different reason. The feelings that I was trying so hard to repress were now slowly rising up, threatening to pop off the cap of the bottle I had so tightly screwed on. _A fucking psychiatrist would have probably told me that was the stupidest way to handle things. _I snorted sarcastically, ignoring the cab drivers startled expression.

After I had paid the cab driver, I headed to my room and collapsed onto the freshly made bed, staring at the ceiling. A sudden jolt of panic overtook me when I realized that in my haste to get away, I neglected to tell anybody where I was going. _Fuck._ Of course at that moment, my phone rang. Speak of the devil. I flipped the phone open, not even bothering to check the caller id. "Hello Miranda."

**MPOV:**

Where was she? I had given her some time to compose herself before I went after her. I discreetly checked every bathroom in the room, yet the brunette was nowhere to be found. I sighed in frustration. I needed to talk to her. Finding a secluded spot, I pulled out my phone, and pushed my number one speed dial. She picked up on after the first ring, and her voice seemed tense.

"Hello Miranda."

I cut to the chase. "Andréa, where are you?" I allowed the worry I felt to seep through my voice, thinking that maybe she would be more likely to tell me if she knew I was really concerned.

"At the hotel," she seemed surprised, and I was delighted to know that my plan had worked. "I'm really sorry that I left-"

"Are you alright?" I cut her off.

"Yes, thank you." That was it. No explanation of why or how. It bothered me more than it should.

"What happened?" I pushed, wanting to get more information out of her.

"I don't know. It must have just been that type of fish maybe," her voice sounded strained, either like she was trying not to yell or cry.

I didn't know which one scared me the most, so I quickly added, "I'm coming back now."

"Oh no Miranda! That is not necessary. I'd hate to be the cause of you leaving. I'm fine."

Of course, 'fine' meant 'I'm not fine.' "Really Andréa, you know how much I detest these...functions anyways. You'd be doing me a favor."

A pause. "Alright."

I hung up, and walked back out to the main room in search of Nigel and Emily.

**APOV:**

Great. Miranda was coming back. I threw my iPhone back on the bed before picking it back up and opened a new message to Emiliano. He deserved an explanation of Miranda's behavior. I started at the message bubble after I composed it. Not fully confident of its content, I reread it to make sure that it made sense. It was confusing to explain, and I didn't know if I covered everything, but hopefully he understood the gist.

_Emiliano, It's Andy. I would like to apologize for tonight's circumstances. I'm sure you already know that the woman who was rude to you was Runway's Miranda Priestly. Yes, the 'Snow Queen' and the 'Devil'. She is my boss, but also the woman I love. __That is also why I can't indulge in a fling. My heart belongs to her, and although she does not reciprocate, I simply cannot (in a sense) 'cheat' on her. _Although her actions were...harsh, I don't think she meant to hurt you. I cannot explain why she did what she did, but I hope that you are not too scathed. You seem like an amazing man, and I'm really sorry that you had to find out this way. I again, apologize for her behavior as well as mine.

_-Andy Sachs_

As I reread it, I realized it sounded quite dramatic. Not caring, I hit the 'send' button, and watched as my words were sent to his phone. I locked my phone and settled back on the pillows. With that out of the way, I resumed staring at the ceiling, tracing the barely-visible cracks with my eyes. My eyelids soon felt heavy, and I allowed them to close, thankful that they were carrying me away from my upset stomach and _her_.

**MPOV:**

Nigel and Emily were, of all things, going _clubbing_ after I had given them the night off. Selfishly, I didn't tell them about Andréa's condition, since I wanted to help her by myself. So as I sat in the car by myself, I mulled over Andréa. She was wonderful in every possible way. Caring, smart, and of course, exquisite. Her long brown locks, the pools of chocolate that I loved staring at, the gentle curves that haunted my dreams at night...My hands clenched with the sexual tension I felt. I knew that I had begun to develop true feelings for her after Paris. Of course, I had admired her before, but it was for her body more than anything else. Paris opened my eyes to her gentle nature.

_Stephen had just divorced me, and I felt like shit. ____I thought I was in love with each of the men I married, but I suppose now it more of a friendship love. Not the toe-curling, wonderful, true love in the movies. ____On top of that, _what it symbolized hurt too. "Snow Queen drives away another Mr. Priestly." _________Why were all my relationships crap? Why did every man in my life leave me? Was I that unloveable? Sure I was a workaholic, but they should have known before they married me. __  
_

___To add onto that, my beautiful children were also hurt. _"But, my girls. It's just so unfair to the girls. Another disappointment, another letdown, another father figure." I remember Andréa's face when I spilled my guts out to her. So open. So expressive. I really saw her then. I realized with a jolt that my attraction to her was more. When she sat down next to me and wrapped her arms around me, I stiffened. Not a great time to realize my feelings to my very very young assistant. Although soon, I relaxed against the soft body that was pressed to mine, and allowed my guard down to cry into her shoulder. I felt safe in her embrace because I knew that she would not betray me. She was one of the few people I could trust.

_After I had finished, I dismissed her because I could not handle her being so close. I whispered my first 'thank you' since...well ages...to her, falling more in love when I saw her timid smile in return. The next day after I had crushed Nigel's hopes and dreams, I hated myself when I saw her heartbroken expression. I had caused that. I was so sure that my Andréa was leaving me, I almost sobbed in relief when she showed up again. Realizing that I couldn't let her go again, I took extra care in working to gain her trust and eventually, her friendship._

Now it seems like that trust is tainted. Andréa can't confide in me, and I really want to crawl in her head and figure out what is wrong. She hasn't smiled or laughed in ages. On the plane, when she walked by me, I couldn't help but to pretend that I needed her for the schedule. When she bend over to retrieve it, I almost fainted when I saw the flawless skin exposed. It took all of my self control not to jump on her. Then that idiot _Allie_ or whatever the hell her name was had shamelessly flirted with my Andréa. Just thinking about the preppy blonde made my stomach flip and my nostrils flare. I hated her. But not as much as I hated the dark-haired man that Andréa was conversing with before she had burst into tears. That man, I was sure, had hurt her. I charged in, guns a'blazing, hoping to incinerate the man where he stood. Then...I _touched_ her. Her face.

"Oh god," I whispered.

"Pardon ma'am?" the driver looked in his rearview mirror.

"Nothing," I snapped.

The car pulled up to the hotel, and I glided out. The silence in the elevator made me feel uneasy, since I had become accustomed to Andréa's solid presence beside me. Reaching our floor, I knocked on Andréa's door. No response.

"Andréa?" I hesitantly called out.

Silence. Becoming seriously worried, I hurried back to my room as elegantly as I could, and slipped my key into the lock. After I had opened the door, I crossed my room quickly and opened the opposite door that led to the 'private' stairwell. I halted in my tracks at the top of the staircase. Staring down at Andréa's room, my heart almost stopped. She had fallen asleep in her dress, and her left hand was rising up and down evenly on her flat stomach as she breathed. Her chocolate tresses were spread across the pillow, and her face looked serene.

I slipped off my heels and set them at the top of the stairs so I wouldn't wake her. Quietly, I crept down the stairs and reached the foot of her bed. I gently took off her heels and set them to the side. I crawled on the bed next to her, and laid on my back. My eyes closed, but I was not sleeping. I was simply at peace, laying next to my love.

A whimper broke my meditation. I checked the clock, and saw that I had probably fallen asleep, since about two hours had passed since I laid down. A part of my brain quickly registered that Nigel and Emily still weren't back, and I chuckled softly before my attention snapped back to Andréa. She twitched and and whimpered again. I gasped. Before I could so much as lay a hand on her, she rolled over and started crying in her sleep as she shivered. My heart broke, and I wrapped my arms around her, trying to comfort her.

"Andréa, honey. It's alright. Please. You're safe. Shhh."

She sighed, and curled deeper into me. My right arm was wrapped around her upper back, and my left hand was resting on her brown locks. I started stroking her hair, marveling in the softness and held her closer to my chest. Her warm breath blew over my neck, and I shuddered at the sensation.

Understanding with a heavy heart that Emily would probably be back soon, I gently untangled myself from her and settled back on my side of the bed. I kissed her forehead gently, pausing for a moment when my lips settled on her smooth skin as I savored the feeling. I studied her tear-stricken face one last time before I reluctantly got up and walked up the staircase. After turning one last time at the sleeping beauty, I picked up my shoes and went into my own room, shutting the door softly behind me with a click.

**Okay, do you guys like Miranda's point of view? Or is it annoying to jump back and forth? Thanks!**


	14. Chapter 14

**So sorry again for the wait! Thanks to everybody. Judging by the reviews I've gotten, everybody likes Miranda's point of view, and only a few thought it was a little choppy. I like writing from her perspective, so I will try and make it less jumpy! Also, I almost died when I reached 100+ reviews! Thanks so much! This chapter is mostly dialogue, and kind of slow, but I promise it will pick up the pace soon! :)**

"Em," I gently shook my friend. "Em? Shit."

The redhead was passed out next to me, and did not look good. Her makeup was smeared badly, and there were dark circles under her eyes that I could tell were not created from her smudged liner. Vaguely, I wondered how long she and Nigel had been out, and how much she'd had to drink.

"Em?" I tried again.

Emily let out a grunt, and threw her arm over her face. Happy that she wasn't dead from alcohol poisoning, I let out a sigh of relief.

"You scared the hell out of me!"

"Mpft," was Emily's response. "God, my head is killing me."

"How much did you have to drink last night?" I exclaimed as I handed her a glass of water and Advil.

Emily propped up on her elbows and squinted, even though the room was dark except for the weak rays of light peering through the drapes. "Ugh. I have no idea. It's so bright." She gratefully took the medicine I offered her, and threw it back in one gulp. Emily sighed contently and leaned back before snuggling down on top of the mattress.

"Come on, let's get you under the covers," I nudged her.

"Too tired," Emily mumbled.

I knew I didn't have much time until she completely passed out again, so I quickly wrapped my right arm under her legs, and clutched her thin waist with my left. Lifting her slowly, I attempted to pull the covers back with my left hand. I don't know how I managed it, but somehow I got her under the soft blankets. She settled down and murmured her approval.

"Whew," I panted.

I pulled the covers up over her body, and tucked them firmly under her chin. I raised her head and fluffed up her pillow before gently laying her down again.

"Hey Em? One last question," I whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Did you take my shoes off last night?"

"Mmm, can't remember. So sleepy."

And with that, she was out like a light. Snorting, I turned away from her to get dressed, the question still bugging me. Judging by the intense hangover Emily had, she probably wasn't even capable to locate the bed clearly last night-let alone take off my shoes! But if she didn't do it, then who did? Also, I remember having one of my typical nightmares where Nate raped me, until a warmth encompassed me and saved me from reliving it again.

Figuring that it was probably just Emily seeking warmth from me in the night, I shook off my confusion and checked the bedside clock. 5:30 am. Great. Seeing Miranda after the terrible event yesterday was _not_ what I wanted to do, but I made a hesitant promise yesterday to be there, and besides...it was_Miranda_. To be honest, I couldn't _not _go-even if I wanted to. I just needed to guard my heart carefully and not make the same stupid mistake again. I also had to apologize for falling asleep last night before she got back.

So with a sigh, I started getting dressed in my favorite comfy outfit, not caring what Miranda thought. Grabbing my journal and favorite pen, I swept out the door, taking extra care to close it gently, and slowly walked down the hall to the elevators. When the elevator dinged, my eyes scanned the lobby before falling on the iconic white hair that was peeking out over a chair.

"Hey," I said softly when I reached her.

"Oh Andréa!" she jumped slightly, despite my efforts to approach slowly.

"Sorry," I frowned slightly.

"Quite alright," Miranda took off her glasses and waved them to the empty chair across from her. "Please, sit."

I sat. "Miranda, I just want to apologize for not staying awake last night, just in case if you were trying to reach me."

A look flitted through her eyes before she chased it away. "It's alright. I'm sure you must be exhausted. It's been a busy month."

_You have no idea._ "Yes," I responded. Clearing my throat, I asked, "So what are you working on?"

"Runway. I'm trying to find the perfect models, the perfect setting, the perfect time..." she trailed off. Miranda rubbed her eyes, and I felt the urge to knead out the tension that was visible in her shoulders.

"Must be quite hard," I hummed in response.

"Quite. It's very frustrating to make everything look acceptable to put in Runway. I am responsible for anything that is good or bad in there, so I must make it look the very best it can be. I refuse to have my name attached to something that does not meet my expectations."

"Miranda, I've read all of the issues where you are the Editor, and they make me awestruck. They seriously look astounding. It's like you've put your soul into each and every page of the issue."

"I thought you didn't read Runway?" Miranda asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Well, after I got my job, I felt that I needed to read the product that the company I worked for produced, so I wouldn't feel like I was at a complete loss. Nigel has a shrine of pretty much all of the issues, so I asked him, and voilà! That's how I spent most every night-flipping through all 310 pages of each issue," I chuckled.

"Really?" Miranda's voice was soft.

Feeling uncomfortable under her gaze, I shrugged and nodded. "They were very interesting to read."

"Ah," Miranda seemed pleased. "I can see that none of the fashion rubbed off on you when you woke up this morning."

I could tell she wasn't serious by the teasing look in her eyes, so I didn't feel offended. "Haha. This is what I wear when I get up before 6-" I gestured to my shirt- "a white tee-shirt, ponytail, and yoga pants."

"Well I approve."

I gaped. "W-what?"

"Close you mouth Andréa, really. We are not a codfish."

"Mary Poppins?" I cracked a grin.

"One of my favorites."

"Well thank you for the compliment," I shyly grinned.

"Mmm," Miranda murmured in response.

"So do you know when Emily and Nigel got back from their clubbing experience?" I changed the topic. "Emily was so hungover, I thought she had alcohol poisoning!"

"No I don't, and how unfortunate for her," Miranda said with a gleam in her eye.

"Oh no Miranda," I cried. "Don't be hard on them today!"

"Relax, I'm not going to," Miranda smirked. "Although, it would be funny."

"Oh Miranda," I shook my head.

"So what did you bring to work on?" Miranda asked, abruptly switching our conversation.

"Oh, um. Just my manuscript-the one I was telling you about on the plane."

"Oh yes. You never told me what it's about. How is it coming along?"

She looked genuinely interested, so I responded truthfully, "It started out as a happy romance, but over the last month, it's turned out darker than I expected."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well when I first started it, there were two lovers, Ralph and Charlotte. The story was utter crap after I read through it last month. It was so sappy, and the story itself truthfully, had no plot. I completely trashed it, and re-wrote it so that Ralph kidnapped Charlotte and used Stockholm's syndrome to make her stay with him. It is not a happy tale, and does not have a happy ending."

"Wow," Miranda exhaled softly. "Any reason why you changed it?"

"No," I lied. I was _not_ going to tell her it was because I was/am depressed, but I felt like I should explain a little. "There was just no meaning to it. Besides, most of the award-winning books deal with deep matters. I couldn't just write a sappy love story that would be only sold on iBooks. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I aspire to be recognized. Like you said earlier, whatever I write has my name on it, so I want it to be good. My pride is linked to my work."

"I see. May I read it?"

I lowered my eyes to my notebook before peering back up at her and responding, "Uh, well, I have to finish re-writing some parts and editing it, but maybe when I'm done."

"Alright."

We smiled at each other before turning to our own tasks-Miranda with her work, and me with mine. Biting my pen between my teeth, I rested my chin on my left palm and stared at the words I wrote. Reaching up with my right hand, I plucked the pen out of my mouth and crossed out some words before repositioning the pen between my teeth again. I re-read the sentence. It was stronger, but could be even better. Furrowing my brow in concentration, I took my pen again and scratched more words out. Miranda and I worked in silence for a long time. It was nice though. The only noise resonating from us was the sound of pen against paper-something that calmed me because it was one of my favorite noises.

"Andréa?" Miranda broke the silence.

"Yes?" I looked up, still a little unfocused, still lost in my fantasy world.

"I think it's time for breakfast."

"What time is it?"

"9:00."

"Wow," I looked down at my page that was scribbled all over, and felt a sense of accomplishment. I had gotten a lot done, and was satisfied with the progress I made. "Alright. Where are we going?"

* * *

And that was how I found myself spending my mornings in Italy. Miranda and I talked for a while before we turned to our own separate work, which we spent hours on before eating breakfast together. Eventually, I received a text from Emiliano, which was brief.

_Andy,_

_I can not imagine what you have been through in your short life. I wish I was the person who could help you through this, but I can see that the woman you care so deeply about-Miranda- is the one. Trust her. And know that I am always here if you would like to talk/text. You are a beautiful woman, and I sincerely wish that you find happiness with your Miranda._

_Arrivederci,_

_Emiliano_

I responded with a thank-you, and felt an aching sadness. Miranda would never truly be mine. For brief moments though, I could pretend that Miranda truly cared about me, and it made me happier than I could ever imagine. But then the second week of Milan Fashion week came, and it diminished every happy feeling I had.

* * *

**MPOV:**

Why didn't I tell her how I felt? Why didn't I tell her that I was not pushing her away that night, but merely trying to guide us to a safer place where we could talk? The answer? I was too afraid. Her opinion of me means the world, and considering her latest behavior where she couldn't even look me in the eye...I just couldn't do it. I wouldn't be able to survive if I knew she hated me.

But I miss her beautiful smile that made my heart melt. I miss the warmth radiating from the deep pools of chocolate, her laugh-I haven't heard it in ages, and even her size 4 body. Of course Andréa looks drop-dead gorgeous as a size 2, but I miss some of the soft curves that she lost. I can tell she hasn't been eating, because whenever we have breakfast together, she eats about 1/4 of whatever she's ordered and then plays with the rest.

I miss the moment she held me in her arms in Paris, and savor the briefest hold I had on her when she was crying in her sleep. God. All I want is for her to be mine, and me to be hers. I need to get my act together, and sacrifice everything to her-my feelings, and ultimately my heart.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks everybody! This is a long chapter that expands on Miranda/Andy's hopefully growing relationship! Please read and review! :)**

I woke up the morning of the last Sunday we were in Milan with a twisting feeling in my stomach. Bolting towards the bathroom with my hand over my mouth, I flipped up the toilet seat and started retching. When I was done, I wiped the back of my mouth in disgust and flushed before leaning against the shower door with my eyes closed. The gagging had triggered my tear ducts, so a few tears leaked out. Breathing deeply, I blearily opened my eyes and shakily stood up. I walked over to the sink and rested my hands on the edge. Shutting my eyes again when a wave of nausea threatened to make me throw up again, I failed to see Emily approach.

"Hey Andy?"

I gasped in surprise and shot open my eyes. _Oh god. The room was spinning... Not a good idea._ I clutched the counter harder.

"I'm sorry Em. Did I wake you?" I felt awful.

"Are you alright?" Emily asked, ignoring my question completely. She crossed over to where I was standing, and wet a washcloth to press against my forehead.

I sighed when the cool fabric touched my skin. I was reminded of how wonderful Emily was. "Thanks. I don't know why I would throw up. Ugh."

"Um," Emily paused, and she avoided my gaze.

"What Emily?" I was nervous when I saw her reaction, but I pressed on.

After more fidgeting, Emily finally looked into my eyes and asked fragilely, "When was your last period?"

I stood there gaping. I opened and closed my mouth at least three times, not able to form a sentence- let alone words.

Seeing my response, Emily hurriedly added, "Well, it just seems like you're tired all the time, and with the whole incident with the fish..." she trailed off.

"Um..." I stuttered. "I guess I _have_ been exhausted a lot, and the fish incident was weird, but that couldn't-_doesn't _mean I could be pregnant! Besides, how did you know about the fish?"

"I know, but those could be some contributing factors. I heard about it from Nigel, because Miranda asked him where you went after you threw up," Emily said gently.

"Oh."

"So, when did you have your last period?" Emily re-wet the washcloth, giving me time to think. Mentally counting, I calculated that I had missed two of my periods.

"I haven't had it for about 8 weeks," I started crying, "and Nate raped me 6 weeks ago. Is that even possible?"

"Well, he might just have really fast sperm, or you just have really fertile eggs," Emily said seriously. "Hey, it's going to be alright."

"No it's not! I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend's child!" I blubbered. "And it wasn't even consensual! I don't want a kid! I'm not ready to be a mother-I'm only 26!"

"Shh," Emily soothed, wrapping me in a hug. "You don't know for sure if you are."

"Yes I do," I sobbed. "I can feel it. It explains everything. Like you said before, I've been fatigued a lot, my boobs hurt half the time, and I feel bloated! I thought it was PMS symptoms, but when it never came, I chalked it up to stress. Now I now better. The morning sickness just is the cherry on top."

Emily seemed like she didn't know what to say, so she started stroking my hair gently. Eventually, my sniffles and shudders calmed, and I stood there, gulping for air.

"T-thank you," I whimpered. I stepped out of her embrace, and gave her a watery smile.

"Oh honey," Emily brushed some of my hair out of my face.

My hands automatically drifted down to my stomach, and I looked at it in wonder. There was a slight bump.

"I am getting a little fatter," I admitted. "Not much, but just a little. I seriously can't believe I haven't noticed it before. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Well not everybody looks at their belly as their getting dressed," Emily offered weakly as an explanation. "Maybe you were so preoccupied with everything else, you never noticed it. I mean, when was the last time you looked in a mirror? Besides, I didn't notice it!"

"Eh, I suppose," I shrugged. "No offense, but I can't believe that you didn't see it. In fact, nobody else noticed either! I guess I just wore a lot of loose-fitting tops."

Emily was silent for a while before hesitantly asking, "May I?"

I trusted Emily so inexplicably, she could've reached out without asking, and I would've been fine with it. But she was very respectful, and wouldn't dream of doing something so presumptuous. I nodded my agreement, and she hesitantly reached out and rested her palm on my belly.

"Wow," she murmured.

"Wow doesn't even begin to cover it," I sighed. "Oh my god. I haven't been eating! I just couldn't eat anything during-or after-Nate abused me, so now everything makes my stomach churn because it's so sensitive. What if my poor baby suffers because of my lack of appetite?"

"Andy, it's ok," Emily tried to reassure me after seeing the waterworks that were threatening to make themselves appear again, "I'm sure that if you start eating healthy now, you will be fine."

"God. Parenthood. I can't even..." I gulped. "So sorry Emily."

"For what?" Emily furrowed her brow. "Stop apologizing! I love you like a sister, Andy. And I know that if the situation was reversed, you would've already hunted down my rapist and killed him. You'd had caught my pregnancy earlier than I did, and would've had me on a plane back to New York already."

"I love you too Em," was the only thing I could say. I embraced her again.

"At least today we can go home," Emily said.

"Ugh. But I have to spend eight hours in an airplane though," I groaned.

"If you sit next to me, you can lean on me!" Emily chuckled.

"Thanks!" I gave a weak laugh in return.

I think I was still in a state of shock. My crying helped a lot, but I still couldn't fathom the idea that my unborn child was a product of a rape. I hated thinking awful thoughts about my poor baby, but it just wasn't fair. I wanted to have a baby on my own terms, and I wanted to have it with somebody I loved. I wasn't even 30 yet. Before I could start bawling my eyes out again though, I firmly squeezed those feelings into the bottle with the other repressed feelings, and popped the lid on tight.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Eh, still early, but we should be getting up anyways to pack," Emily responded. She looked concerned.

"Okay," I said hollowly.

"Um Andy? When we get back to New York, we can go buy pregnancy tests to make absolutely sure," Emily faltered before adding, "and if you want to talk to anybody about this, you can definitely talk to me."

"Thanks Em," I responded, and plastered a fake smile on.

It seemed like I had sunk back into my depression, but this time, there was no way I was getting out of it alone. Emily folded the washcloth up, set it by the sink, and looked at me.

"Sure," Emily walked to the door before pausing and turning back around. "I mean it Andy. If you ever need anybody to talk to, just ask." And with that, she slipped out of the bathroom, leaving me confused.

I did want to tell somebody what I felt like, but it was too late. I mean, it happened a month ago! I was just being ridiculous. I needed to move on. And with that thought, I turned away from the mirror and walked out into the bedroom to start packing my things to go home.

* * *

"I just can't believe we're leaving already," Emily sighed as she pulled her luggage along behind her.

"Yeah, me either. It was amazing," Nigel echoed. "Especially with Six here picking out the perfect hotel!"

I forced a giggle. "Well, Google helped a lot!"

"We all agree that Andréa has done well," Miranda injected.

"Thanks," I blushed.

Miranda, with her posse of Emily, Nigel, and I, were making our way to the gate where our private jet was waiting. Apparently after the Allie incident, Miranda deemed regular air transportation unworthy, so she rented a jet from a reputable company. After we reached the gate and handed our luggage to the baggage handler, I allowed the others to sweep on before me before I entered. My jaw dropped when I saw the interior. There was a large green couch with black and white pillows resting on it, and a table of flowers was siting in front of it. Two leather chairs sat side by side with a mahogany table placed in front of it. I didn't even know that a jet was large enough to host all of that furniture!

It was my first time on a private jet obviously. Even in Paris, we didn't take a private jet-we used a public company, which frankly surprised me, since Miranda hated almost anything that was accessible to anybody. If I knew that this was the result of Allie's blatant rudeness, then I would've given her a hundred dollars instead of mentally cursing her. Looking around at the others faces, I could tell none of them were that impressed. _They'd_ _all flown on a private airplane before._ Oh well. I wasn't going to let that detour my excitement.

Looking in the direction of the couch again, I could literally feel it calling to me. After my stressful morning, that was exactly what I needed. But before I plopped down, I walked over to where Miranda was sitting in one of the leather chairs and turned on my assistant mode. Her laser eyes searched my body up and down before giving a slight nod of approval. I shifted uncomfortably, not at all confident with my choice in wardrobe. It was difficult picking out my outfit this morning, since now I was aware I had a growing baby bump. I could not, for the life of me, believe that I (or others!) couldn't see it before. I guess since I didn't have trouble dressing myself before, I was doing a good job. So this morning, I picked out a pair of black slacks, a ruched grey top to help hide the bump, and red flats.

"Hello Miranda. Is there anything you would like me to do?" I asked, fidgeting. Instead of looking into her eyes, I looked at her cheek, which was dusted with the faintest hint of pink blush.

Out of my peripherals, I saw that her eyes appraised me for a moment before softening. "I would like you to tell me an explanation of why you weren't there this morning. I missed you."

I internally gasped. She missed me? It didn't matter though. The lies came easily to me now, so I answered with ease. "Well, Emily and I had so much to pack! We were really messy, and I lost track of time when we were gathering all of our stu-things. I'm sorry."

"I see. So you spent your morning with Emily." Miranda's eyes hardened, and she waved her hand. "It's fine. That's all."

Her biting remark hurt. I had to fix it quickly. "Miranda?"

"What?"

"I missed not being there too," I said, summoning up the courage to look her in the eye.

Miranda's eyes lost some of their anger, and she replied with a slight smile, "That's all."

I nodded and walked as slow as I could to the couch, well aware of her steady gaze on my back. Finally reaching the object of my desire, I sat down carefully, not wanting to flop down like I wanted, and have Miranda judge me. I settled back and crossed my legs, folding my hands in my lap.

"Hello. This is your captain speaking," a voice over the intercom crackled. "I would like to welcome you onboard this nonstop flight to New York. The duration of this flight is around eight hours and five minutes, and we are expecting a fairly smooth flight today. We are now preparing for takeoff, so please find your seats."

Emily walked over to where I was sitting, and sat down next to me. She opened her arms, and I gratefully snuggled up next to her.

"Hey, you can lay down if you want," Emily softly said.

"Thanks," I responded.

I was exhausted. I curled up on my side, resting my head on Emily's lap, and lost all my concern about what Miranda would think of me. I felt Emily's fingers run through my hair, and felt my eyes droop. I sighed in contentment. The takeoff was fast-I don't even remember it, I was so relaxed. Suddenly, my eyes shot open and my body tensed-Miranda! I had completely forgotten about her discomfort at the takeoff! I glanced over to where she was sitting, and saw that she was talking softly to Nigel. Good. She was okay. My body lost its tension, and I allowed my eyes to close again. I wasn't sleeping, though I was just on the brink of it. After some time, the captain talked again.

"You are now free to get up and walk around," the voice cracked over the intercom. "I hope you enjoy your flight."

"Andréa?" Miranda's cool voice made my eyes shoot open again. She was standing almost right in front of me, and her scent surprisingly didn't make my stomach churn. In fact, it was lovely and intoxicating.

"Yes Miranda?" I scrambled up off of Emily's lap.

"May I sit by you?" That was it. No explanation.

"Uh, is that okay with you Emily?" I stammered.

"I'm sure that Emily will be _fine_ with that," Miranda said in a tone of voice that left no room for argument. In fact, she was pinning Emily with one of her laser-point stares.

"Of course Miranda," Emily squeaked.

She squeezed my hand as she stood up, and made her way over to where Nigel was sitting. Miranda's legs brushed by mine as she walked to the spot where Emily had just left, and sat down. I grumbled silently. Now I definitely wasn't relaxed, and I definitely wasn't going to get any sleep.

"If you wanted to," Miranda looked uncertain, "you could lay your head on my lap."

"Really?" I was incredulous.

"Do I make a habit out of-"

"Thank you," I cut her sarcastic remark off, knowing that her defenses were drawn.

I gently lowered my head on her soft lap, and inhaled softly, breathing in Miranda's rich scent. The situation was highly inappropriate for an assistant and her boss, but I was so tired, I honestly didn't care. I turned my head so I was facing her stomach, and burrowed my face in her warm belly, seeking warmth, and was surprised when she gasped sharply. I tensed when I heard it, sure that she was going to push me off her lap, but then I felt her nimble fingers start playing with my hair. It felt even more amazing when Miranda did it, and soon she had me seconds away from falling asleep. Right before I slipped into Dreamland though, I swear I could hear her say, "Sleep Andréa. I'll be here for you." But before I could make sure, I was out like a light.

* * *

**MPOV:**

I had truly missed Andréa this morning. I thought for sure that she had gotten sick of me, but then she explained, and it almost made things worse. Knowing that she was with _Emily..._ I couldn't even fathom a response, so I responded with anger instead of disappointment and sadness. My sweet love knew exactly what to say to lift my spirits, and I was so grateful to her for that.

But when I saw my first assistant's fingers in _my_ Andréa's hair, I knew that I had to intervene. My blood was boiling-how dare Emily touch her right in front of me? If the thought of the two sharing a room-much less a bed- wasn't torture enough, that was really pushing it. So I did the best thing I could do, and marched right over to where they were sitting and demanded that Emily gave up her spot to me. Was it awful that I didn't even feel guilty for taking her seat?

Now I find my fingers tangling absently through Andréa's long, silky brown locks, and I couldn't be happier. Hopefully she was asleep when I whispered my declaration of protectiveness to her. Looking down at her serene face pressed against my stomach, I feel another rush of adoration towards her. I knew that I was going to try and pursue a relationship with her when we got back to New York, but first, I had to do one of the hardest things ever, and fire her. If Andréa even had the slightest interest in being with her boss with two kids, we couldn't be working together anymore. So it was both the best and worst thing I could do, since I wouldn't be able to see her during the whole day anymore, but at least I would see her in the evening and morning, and sleep by her every night, and share breakfast with her every morning, and- _whoa! Slow down there lady! It's too early for planning all of that! You don't even know if she's willing to pursue a relationship with you yet!_

Chuckling softly at my absurdness, I allowed my fingers to trace her flawless face, marveling in its smoothness and softness. I started at her forehead, my fingertips hovering over the slight crease marks. It bothered me to know that she was stressed about something. I gently stroked the frown marks, marveling in the fact that they disappeared as soon as I touched them. Andréa sighed and I froze before realizing that she was still asleep, and I was safe to continue my exploration. My fingers went lower, and I caressed the bridge of her nose and dipped into her slight Cupid's Bow before finally reaching those succulent lips that had entranced me ever since I first saw her. Her lips were parted, and I could feel the soft exhale that Andréa emitted. The air was warm and sweet, and I gasped at the sensation.

Remembering where I was, I looked up, and saw that Nigel and Emily were frantically trying to not make eye contact with me. It was so obvious that they witnessed the whole thing, and my face flushed with embarrassment when I understood that my seemingly private with Andréa had been intruded. _Oh well._They were bound to find out my attraction to her eventually-if not already. If they had any inkling of how I felt about her, I had just confirmed their suspicions.

This time, I made sure that both Emily and Nigel were facing the other way before leaning down and pressing my lips to Andréa's forehead. Wrapping my right arm protectively around her head and tangling my left hand in her hair, I leaned back and rested my head against the cushion. Soon, I followed my love's example, and was dozing peacefully.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you everyone! Sorry for the long wait...I've been extremely busy. To make it up-long chapter! :) I really appreciate all of your wonderful support! (Warning: Mention of cutting and attempted suicide at the end.) **

I sat at my desk and stared at the computer screen in hopes to calm my mind. The pregnancy test I took merely this morning confirmed my worst fears. I was pregnant. I did not know what to do. I checked the clock-2:30 in the afternoon, and still no one had commented on my choice of outfit. I was wearing a long off-the-shoulder grey shirt, tights, and boots. The top was loose fitting, so it concealed my baby bump well. My hair was straight and I pulled it all over to the side where my shirt wasn't hanging off my shoulder. My makeup was heavy, since I didn't sleep at all after the airplane ride. I had applied a ton of foundation and concealer to hide my dark circles. I closed my eyes briefly, and thought about how sweet Miranda was yesterday. I had slept for the first time in months when I was with her.

"Andréa."

I immediately straightened up and adjusted my top before walking into her office.

"Yes Miranda?"

"Coffee," Miranda was rubbing her temples and looked tired.

"Alright. Anything else?" Since she wasn't looking at me, I took the opportunity to let my eyes feast over her wonderful figure.

"Yes. Call Anna Wintour and tell her for the hundredth time that I am not available for dinner tonight, nor any night. God I have absolutely no desire to spend one minute around that woman," Miranda took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Then call my housekeeper, Emma, and tell her that she can have the night off. Finally call my ex-husband and remind him that Caroline and Cassidy are with me for the weekend."

I nodded. Miranda looked up for the first time, and opened her mouth before closing it before staring at me. I wet my lips nervously, scared that she would see my belly.

"Um, is there anything else?" I asked quietly.

"Pick up 10 skirts from Michael Kors, and get 10 scarves from Heremès on your way back with my coffee. That's all."

I inaudibly sighed with relief. "Alright Miranda."

I spun on my heel and started walking towards the door.

"And Andréa?"

"Yes Miranda?" I looked over my shoulder.

"Thank you," came the almost sweet response.

I gave her a small smile and closed the door gently behind me.

"I'll be right back Em. Miranda wants me to grab her coffee, skirts from Michael, and scarves from Heremès," I mumbled under my breath as I swept past my best friend's desk.

"Are you sure you're alright to do this?" Emily worriedly asked.

"I'll be fine. Thanks," I replied.

"I'll make the calls Andy," Emily responded softly.

I paused. "Thank you."

Grabbing my purse, I walked out of the doors, and made my way to the elevator. Pushing the button impatiently, I waited for it to open.

"Hey Andy!"

"Nigel!"

We embraced, and entered the elevator together when it arrived.

"Lunch darling?" Nigel asked me as he pushed the button that was marked 'L'.

"No, thank you. I'm running errands for Miranda. I've already had my lunch break, but didn't eat anything because I've been really stressed out lately."

"Why?"

"I have to tell you something Nigel," I shut my eyes.

"What is it?" Nigel placed his hand gently on my forearm.

"I'm pregnant."

There was a pause.

"Oh Andy," Nigel sighed. He rubbed my arm soothingly. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't think so. But thank you so much. I just don't know what to do, you know?"

"Sweetie, my apartment is always open," Nigel squeezed my arm.

"Thanks, but that's why I'm leaving Serena's and Emily's house," I responded, "I don't want to burden them my child. Babies are a lot of work, and they cry. I can't take any more away from them, and I can't load my burden on you!"

"That's extremely thoughtful of you Andy, but do you have enough money?"

"Well…" I trailed off.

The elevator doors opened to the lobby and we got off.

"Wait. If my manuscript is any good, I'm sure to get some money out of it. I just have to send it in to this guy that Miranda recommended for me," I said.

"Miranda recommended someone for you?"

"Yes," I responded, blushing lightly.

"Six, she has feelings for you," Nigel said seriously.

I stood there and gaped before shutting my mouth and narrowing my eyes. "Oh Nigel. Please don't go down that road again."

"What? This time I have proof! Didn't Emily tell you?"

"No! We got home, and Ems literally fell asleep the moment we fell into bed. She didn't even change out of her pajamas!"

"Miranda allowed you to sleep on her! She allowed you to_ touch_ her. And above all else," Nigel paused dramatically, "she was tracing your features as you slept with a lovesick expression on her face."

_Could it be true? I had gone for so long trying to persuade myself that Miranda had no feelings for me that it was hard to believe him. _

"Are you serious?" I stammered.

"Finally!" Nigel threw up his hands. "No excuses! That's a huge step for you Six-allowing yourself to believe!"

"Wow," was the only thing that could come out of my mouth.

"How are you going to win your lady Six?"

"Well first, I'm going to go and get the things she requested!" I giggled.

A huge wave of euphoria was threatening to lift me off the ground as I finally admitted to myself that maybe my feelings weren't as one-sided as I thought.

"Thanks Nige!" I gave him a quick hug before running out of the office as quick as I could.

My phone vibrated. While still running, I clumsily pulled my phone out of my purse and checked it. _1 message from Nigel_. I quickly unlocked my iPhone and read it.

_Good luck Six. Also, be sure to grab something to eat. We don't want our little copy of you to starve! -N_

I laughed. "'Our' little copy?" Shaking my head, I responded quickly and threw it back into my purse. Excitement filled me as I ran through the crowded streets. _Miranda likes me. She likes me._ Suddenly, everything made sense. The lunches, the touches, the smiles, the conversations we had..._Miranda likes me._ I couldn't think of anything else on my way to Hermès and Michael Kors. I was positively glowing when I picked up the scarves and skirts.

When I exited Michael Kors, I noticed that the sky was darkening. Who cared? Miranda liked me! Rain wouldn't bring me down! I hurried to Starbucks as quick as I could, and ordered Miranda's usual along with a blueberry scone for Miranda-a special treat that I knew she would appreciate. My appetite had returned, so I ordered myself a bagel and asked for the cream cheese on the side, since they always put too much on. I grabbed some napkins and a plastic knife as I waited for my order to be ready. When it was, I placed the bagel, the napkins, and the knife in my purse for later, and pushed the Starbucks doors open.

Squinting my eyes, I looked up at the sky and figured I had little over 5 minutes to get back before it started to pour. Adjusting all of the bags in my arms, I started running. I almost made it. Little droplets fell from the sky before it started to really come down. The water clung to my hair and ran down my face. I was drenched when I entered Elias Clark. Flashing an apologetic smile to the janitor who was staring at me with a look of annoyance on his face, I made my way over to the elevators.

When I reached Runway's floor, I took a minute to compose myself before walking down the long hallway. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I started to walk, my heels clicking with every step I took. Life was finally starting to look up.

Emily was not at her desk when I stopped at mine to set down my purse and the items Miranda had me pick up. It was surprising since she never left unless she had to pee. Even then, she usually waited for me to return to take care of her...business. Oh well. Miranda probably sent her to run more errands. I took Miranda's coffee and her scone and walked to the entrance of her office. Standing in the doorway for a minute, my eyes softened as I took in my love's figure hunched over the pages of Runway with her right leg crossed over her left.

I softly cleared my throat. "Miranda?"

She looked up, startled before relaxing when she saw it was me. "Andréa? Why are you all...wet?"

I stifled a groan when I heard utter those magnificent words. "I tried to race the rain, but apparently it beat me."

"I see," Miranda licked her lips as her eyes traveled down my body. She froze. I automatically froze too.

"Miranda?" I followed her eyes, and with dismay, say that the rain had soaked my shirt, which made it cling to my protruding belly like a second skin.

"What. Is. That?" Miranda over-enunciated through clenched teeth. The change in her demeanor was fascinating, yet frightening.

"I can explain," my eyes widened and I gripped her coffee tighter.

"No need," Miranda's voice was like razors, and her eyes were scary. They were dark, and there was no sight of warmth or tenderness I saw just 30 seconds earlier. "The bulging _monstrosity_ explains everything."

"No it doesn't. I-" I had to make her understand.

"Do not bore me with your incompetent excuses," Miranda interrupted me.

"Please Miranda-"

"Leave. Now. And. Don't. Come. Back," she gritted out each syllable.

"No. List-" I pleaded with her again. I couldn't lose her. She was my soul mate.

"I always thought you were fat," Miranda bit out. "I had no idea what I was thinking when I said you were a size 2. God. I must have smacked my head on the pavement."

"Wha-" tears started welling up in my eyes. She didn't really mean that? Right? Besides, why was she bringing up my weight?

"Who knocked you up? Was it cookboy's? Or Christian Thompson's?" Miranda stared straight at me and her last insult dropped from her lips. "Or was it a child out of wedlock? Do you just walk around and bamboozle every man with a little flutter of your eyes and then fall into bed with them? Does this child even _have_ a father?"

That did it. Tears were falling freely down my cheeks, and I couldn't control them. I knew I should have fought harder to try and make her understand, but her comment cut me so deeply, I couldn't find the strength to set her straight. The bottle where I had carefully stored all of my feelings came bursting open, and I couldn't form any words. All of the emotions I had carefully stored flew through my whole body, and I almost fainted with the intensity of them. Hate. Rage. Sadness. Depression. Every single bad thought I had about myself tumbled around in my head, all fighting for my attention.

Nigel was so utterly wrong. He had me walking on air for the last hour, and Miranda's harsh words absolutely ruined me. Miranda obviously had _no_ feelings for me. She thought I was a whore. Her words were completely right-my child had no father, and I was alone with a life I could not take care of myself. I wanted to scream and bawl my eyes out, but no matter how broken I was, I could not bear to break down in front of the one person who I thought was my destined love. I chanced a look at her face, and flinched when I saw the expression she wore. It was a look of pure hatred-impassive, stone, and..cold. So cold.

I hated myself so much. I walked up closer to her and set the scone and coffee gently down on her desk. I avoided all eye contact, and hastily turned around, wiping uselessly at my tears. I swept out of her office and grabbed my purse off my desk on my way to the elevators..._again._

"Andy! What's wrong?" Emily had returned, and was standing in front of me.

I couldn't face her sweet, caring face. I pushed her out of the way and walked quicker. Once I finally made it outside, I took one last glance up at the window where Miranda's office was, the rain drenching my face. Knowing I could not walk in that direction with the thought that she was probably sitting in her plush leather seat and smirking at my retreating figure, my legs carried me faster and faster the other way. Soon, I was running.

* * *

I breathed in the fresh air. The cool wind blew, but I was not cold. Sure my skin was frozen to the touch, but I was numb. I couldn't feel anything. I was at the Observation Deck at Rockefeller Center-the only place I had thought to go after sitting on a subway for an hour staring into space. I know it was a long time, but the voices had started up again when I was sitting. _Ugly. Tainted. How could Miranda, a pure goddess, ever even stand looking at you? _That time, I did nothing to quench them. I let them take me further and further into depression.

My phone had rung about 10 minutes I left Runway, right before I left to walk underground to the subway. It was Emily. Pressing the ignore button, I continued to walk down the stairs, but my phone rang again and I almost dropped it when I checked the caller id. _Miranda._ I always took Miranda's calls, but today, the ignore button was hit for the first time in my life. I had no desire to hear whatever insults she had to throw my way. Emily and Miranda were relentless though, so I was relieved when I walked underground, and my service was lost. Except when I emerged above ground again an hour later, my phone was still ringing and vibrating insistently. I turned it to silent, and threw it in my purse.

When I reached the top of the Rockefeller Center, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that nobody else was standing on the observation deck. It was too cold and too rainy for their tastes. It allowed me to really contemplate the dramatic turn my life took. I had lost my job- the only thing that was going to support me and my baby-and the love of my life. Standing on top of the Rockefeller Center helped me think clearly. I had nothing to live for. I had nothing to offer my unborn child. I needed to give her/him a better chance-I couldn't let him/her grow up homeless and starving. Reaching into my purse, my fingers closed around the cheap plastic knife I had originally taken at Starbucks to spread my cream cheese on my bagel. Tightening my grip on it, I inched it out slowly and stared at it.

Running my finger harshly across the blade, contentment filled me when I saw that I had drawn blood. Not a lot, but just enough. I just had to slice very quick and really hard. I positioned it over my basilic vein-the vein that would end my life if I allowed myself to bleed out. Chickening out, I dragged the knife up to the upper part of my forearm, and without any hesitation, made a quick cut. I hissed when the sting registered in my foggy brain. The pain was delicious. It spread throughout my whole body, making me feel warm and tingly inside. The blood was beautiful. It trailed down my arms, reaching my fingertips, where it would then drip onto the ground. Why didn't I cut myself earlier? It was addicting. It gave me a high.

Instead of the rain being a nuisance, it added to the whole effect. It helped with my mood, and I loved the feeling of the water on my bloody skin. I made another cut, and laughed with glee once the pain uncurled itself and rushed through my whole body. I felt I was on Cloud Nine. I was invincible. I could take on the world, and the galaxy, and the universe. _Wait. Andy. Stop. _A softer voice urged me to listen. _Wait. What about your child? Are you going to take away their one chance at life?_

Suddenly, I flung the knife down in disgust. What the fuck was wrong with me? I almost killed myself, and almost killed my baby. I was a monster. I dug my fingers in my hair and leaned over the railing. Then I did the only thing I could.

I cried.

**So, angsty ending to this chapter-hopefully it was sad! Don't worry, I shall make it happy :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Wow! I'm overwhelmed by the number of responses my last chapter has gotten! Thank you all so so so much! I really appreciate all of the reviews/readers/follows/favorites. ****Hopefully this chapter will be happier. (Sorry, it's really long because I couldn't stop myself!)**

**MPOV**

"What the fuck did you do?" a beyond-furious voice snapped.

It was barely a second after I kicked Andréa out, and already, Emily was on me like a bloodhound. I spun around in my chair to face my redheaded assistant, breaking my dreary state of watching the rain drip down the window. My heart was broken in two. I couldn't believe Andréa was pregnant. I felt…cheated, which was ridiculous, since we were never together, but it hurt me so much. There was a hole in my heart, and it kept getting bigger as I thought about _my_ Andréa letting another man touch her. The signs of her pregnancy all made sense, and I felt like a complete idiot for not realizing it sooner. It hurt that she hadn't told me. By the looks of it, she was about 6-7 weeks pregnant, and I couldn't believe she hid it for so long. It felt mortifying, like somehow she was mocking me by concealing it.

"Do not talk to me in tone of voice," I hissed. "And don't you dare use that language with me. I will have you out of a job so fast your little head would spin right off."

"I don't fucking care Miranda," Emily's hands were on her slim hips, and her eyes were narrowed. Part of me was excited that Emily had finally grown a backbone, but the other half wanted to either evict her, or throw her off the building. "What. Did. You. Do?!"

"I don't have to explain anything to you," I snarled. "It's none of your business."

"On the contrary, it is my business because Andy is my best friend," Emily cried.

"Emily, you are one more comment away from being blacklisted from every single place in New York. You won't even be able to work at a strip club."

"You don't have to tell me what you said or did to her," Emily ground out, "but if you care about Andy at _all,_ then you'd better get your shit together, and go after her."

"She obviously doesn't care about me. She's pregnant for God's sake," my eyes widened when I realized what I had just revealed, and I snapped my mouth snapped shut.

Emily groaned before rubbing her eyes with her right hand.

"Oh my God," she said softly. "What the hell did you say Miranda? Tell me. I changed my mind. This _is_ important."

I swallowed hard, and fidgeted-something so uncharacteristic for me. I stroked my chunky necklace and averted her eyes.

"What's with all the yelling?" Nigel entered my office. "And where's Six?"

I sighed. Could it get any worse? Now I was going to get the third degree from both Emily _and_ Nigel.

"Miranda here," Emily shot me a filthy glare, "hurt Andy somehow, and she left with tears streaming down her face. I'm trying to get Miranda to tell me what she said."

"Oh no," Nigel took off his glasses and squeezed his eyes shut. "Miranda, Miranda, Miranda."

"Shut the door Nigel," I said icily.

I felt like I was missing something. Both of them were furious at me, but they didn't even know what I said to her. Something must have happened.

"What did you say?" Nigel said softly.

I responded to Nigel better than Emily, since he was my dearest and oldest friend. In addition to that fact, he wasn't screaming his head off at me.

"I merely told her to pack her things and leave. She neglected to tell me about her latest…_addition_ to her body." I looked down shamefully. "I may have implied that she slept around with a lot of men…"

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHY SHE'S BLOODY PREGNANT?" Emily shrieked and pointed an accusing finger at me. I flinched.

"Em," Nigel tugged her arm back.

Fire seemed to flare from her nostrils, and steam blew out from her ears. She was trembling, she was so mad.

"We need to talk about this rationally," Nigel tried to calm her down, but to no avail.

"She was RAPED for God's sake," Emily all but screamed.

I froze. Emily's haunting words echoed in my ears. _My Andréa was raped. She was raped._ _Some man touched my Andréa, and hurt her terribly. It was not consensual. Oh God._

"Who-who hurt her?" I managed to get out after I cleared my throat.

"The one person she loved and trusted," Emily growled. "Nate, or as you refer to him, cookboy. He beat Andy mercilessly everyday for weeks, yelling obscene things at her until she found solace with Serena and I at our house. Even then, she went back because her heart is so big and loving, she couldn't bear to leave him without giving him a proper explanation. That's when she was raped. She has been alone and sad for so long, even with the support of Serena, Nigel, and I. Our love isn't enough for her. She needs more. Can't you see she's been depressed for the last couple of months? Andy hasn't been sleeping at all ever since that night, and now with a baby to add on top of everything, she's been even more stressed out and tired. And now, since you've put her out of job and broke her heart, she's probably standing in the rain _all by herself_."

By the end of Emily's speech, she was panting with exertion. With every word she spoke, my fists clenched tighter and tighter, and I'm sure my face got paler and paler.

"I hate to rub salt in the wound, but you really hurt her," Nigel murmured. "I had just told her that you had similar feelings to her since Emily and I witnessed your tender moment with her yesterday on the plane. My God Miranda. I would have never told her about your feelings if I knew you were going to break her heart even more. She's been so fragile these past months."

"How do you know she likes me?" I whispered, my fingers still playing with my necklace. I stared at the Book on my desk, not bringing myself to look at my co-workers because I feared I would cry. How could I have been so blind? I crushed my love's heart.

"Oh Miranda," Nigel sighed. "Can't you see? The girl loves you. She was extremely faithful to work-even the day after she was raped. She is faithful to _you_. She asked Emily, Serena, and I not to tell you because she afraid you would judge her. She didn't want unload her burden on you."

"And yet," I said sadly, "I judged her without even listening to her explanation. I basically called her a slut."

"YOU B-"

"Emily!" Nigel cut her off.

I didn't care what Emily called me. It would've been fitting. How could I have done that to the one person (other than my children) that I love? Her face haunted me. It was full of pain and I hadn't shown the slightest bit of mercy to her. I stared at the coffee and the scone that Andréa had so thoughtfully gotten me.

"I can't believe she hid it so well," I covered my face with my hands. "My poor Andréa."

"Andy is naïve. Gentle. She would rather suffer in silence than burden anyone with her problems," Nigel said.

"She flinched a lot whenever I moved towards her," my head was processing all of the information quickly. "She wouldn't make eye contact with me. It all makes sense."

"Do you love her Miranda?" Emily had calmed considerably after Nigel had really twisted the knife in my gut. She seemed to realize that I really loved Andréa. Knowing Andréa loved me back made my heart soar, but awful didn't even begin to cover what I felt. _What had I done?_

"Yes. I love her so much," I said softly. "But I don't know if she'd want me after the things I said to her. I was terrible to her. I don't even deserve her." My eyes closed in despair.

"Oh hell no," Emily snapped. "I'm not letting Andy miss out on her one chance at happiness just because you're too cowardly to do anything about it!"

"Em, take it down a notch," Nigel shook his head. "I believe that Miranda finally understands." He turned to me and asked, "Miranda, if you truly love her, what are you going to do to win her back?"

"I'm going to start by finding my love," I said with determination, looking up at the two people who opened my eyes to everything. "And I will explain everything, and beg for her forgiveness. If she takes me, I will prove my love to the best of my ability."

Emily's eyes lost all of their anger, and now tears threatened to fall.

"Good," was the only thing she said.

Hopefully, my Andréa will forgive me.

* * *

Emily and I were relentless in calling Andréa's cell phone. She never picked up. I called her 25 times, and sent her 21 text messages, all asking where she was. Emily concluded she had gotten on the subway and lost her signal. I didn't care. I called her 40 more times in the next hour, and sent 24 more messages. It was hopeless. It had been over an hour, and still no response. I was about to climb in my car and go driving around New York to search for her myself before Emily had a rather brilliant suggestion.

"She has an iPhone, right?" Emily asked, holding her own iPhone in her right hand.

"Yes," I replied, a glimmer of hope shining through me.

"I can't believe I didn't think of this before, but I have the app 'Where's my iPhone'," Emily said excitedly. "She's always losing her phone, so she downloaded it a while ago. I can use it to track her! Hopefully her phone is on…"

"Andy has always been so resourceful," Nigel said affectionately. "Smart girl."

I hid my smile from them when I heard Nigel's words. My sweet Andrèa.

"Well by all means," I waved my hand in the air, "move at a glacial pace. You know how that thrills me. Actually, let me download it."

"Alright," Emily relented quickly, probably knowing that I wanted to be the one to find her since I felt so incredibly guilty.

I went into iTunes and tapped the 'free' button by the app. I opened the application and breathed a sigh of relief when it worked. Entering her number by memory, I waited impatiently for the stupid thing to work. Finally, the results came.

"Rockefeller Center?!"

Within a flash, I called Roy. My Andréa probably had hypothermia by now if she was standing in the rain, and I wanted to be with her as soon as possible. I snatched my purse from the closet, and practically ran out of the office with a hurried 'thank you' to Emily and Nigel. I would find a way to show my gratitude to them soon.

"Roy, if you get me to Rockefeller Center within 5 minutes, I will give you anything," my words were quick and jumbled. My brain wasn't functioning right-was it even possible to give him whatever he wanted?

Roy's response was to nod and gun the engine. Honking at everyone who got in his way, he drove like a madman. He weaved through the thick New York traffic effortlessly, and I was very impressed with the control he exerted. The tires squealed as he slammed on the brakes in front of the building 4 minutes later.

"All I want is for you and Andy to be happy together," Roy smiled in the rearview mirror. "Andy is a sweet girl, and she's wonderfully kind and warmhearted."

"Thank you Roy," I gasped. "I am still going to give you a raise though."

"Not necessary ma'am," Roy winked. "But you'd better hurry. I'll be waiting here to escort you and Andy home."

I blinked. _Home. With Andréa._ Warmth filled my heart, and all I could do was nod before stepping out of the car. The rain had trickled down to a drizzle, and it felt nice. Quickening my steps, I went up to the Observation Deck after telling the wimpy guard I was Miranda Priestly and I could pass without question or security searching.

My heart broke when I saw a lone figure leaning over the railing. Andréa's hair was soaked, and she was shivering. Her head was in her hands, which were tangled in her long brown hair. The chilly wind blew her hair and dress gently, and the sun, still hidden behind the clouds, created a soft light that bathed her figure. She was a picture of beauty, except for the great shuddering gasps and sobs breaking the air.

"Andréa," I said softly, not wanting to witness her in such a state for another moment.

I watched her back stiffen and her sobs subside. Her entire body was clenched, and she didn't turn around when she answered.

"What do you want?" I could tell she was trying to be strong, but her voice was shaky, it broke her façade. "How did you even know where I was?"

"'Find my iPhone' app," I flushed, grateful she couldn't see me.

"Is that even legal?" she hissed.

"I don't care," I said. "I needed to find you."

"Why? If you're here to insult me more, please just leave. Please."

I marveled at her use of 'please'. If I had been in her position, I probably would've sworn myself out by now. I certainly wouldn't have been so kind.

"Andréa, please look at me," I pleaded.

"No," came the definite answer.

I walked slowly over to her, and heard her breathe faster and faster. I couldn't see her face since her hair was hiding it, so my eyes swept up and down her silhouette.

"Is that blood?" I gasped.

"Leave. Now," Andréa's voice was trembling badly, and her whole body started shaking even harder. Her next word left her lips, and she sounded so defeated. "Please. Miranda, just leave me alone."

I was appalled when I saw the dried blood covering a cut on her arm. It didn't seem deep, but apparently it was enough for her to bleed badly.

"I can't do that," I said softly, and hesitantly reached out to touch her back.

"Don't touch me," she spat and dodged away from me before my fingertips even grazed the fabric of her shirt.

I could finally see her face, and I had to stifle a gasp. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but her pupils scared me the most. They looked…dead. There was no light or hope in them. The combination of rain and her tears had washed away the heavy makeup she wore, leaving behind black mascara streaks and dark circles. Andréa finally realized that I was scrutinizing her face, and she whipped her head away from me again.

"Stupid, stupid," I heard her muttering under her breath. "She probably thinks you're even uglier now."

"Andréa, you are beautiful," I whispered, my own eyes filling with tears. I did this to her.

"Oh really?" Andréa faced me again and yelled in my face. "You obviously didn't think so earlier. Just please Miranda. Leave me alone. Wait. I'll just leave now, and save you the trouble. Don't ever talk to me again."

She spun around and stalked to the exit.

"Andréa," I called out hopelessly, "I love you." _Wait. That came out wrong. It's way to early. You're supposed to be begging for her forgiveness._

Andréa stopped abruptly.

"Please," I pleaded. "Andréa, I love you. I was so incredibly jealous and hurt when I saw your baby bump. That's why I was so cruel and mean to you. I am so sorry. It was an extreme reaction, and a ruthless one. I know that is the worst possible excuse ever, but I swear it's the truth. I've loved you ever since Paris-even before that. You're the only one who has seen me for me. You've seen past the dragon lady and the workaholic bitch. The lunches we've had together have been some of the best moments I've had. I cannot tell you how sorry I am Andréa."

**APOV**

I stood frozen in my tracks. I couldn't breathe. I spun back around and marched up to her. We were an arm's length apart, and I could see every line and crease in her gorgeous face. My angry words died in my throat when I saw tears sparkling in her beautiful eyes. The endless blue took my breath away, and I broke eye contact and looked at the ground.

"Please don't play with me Miranda," I sniffed. "Don't make me believe something that you're just saying. It would break me even further. Don't make me a pawn in a game you're playing."

I felt Miranda's pointer finger on my chin, and I tensed before allowing it to remain there.

"My darling Andréa," Miranda murmured and gently pushed my chin up, forcing me to look in her eyes again, "I am not playing a game with you. If I were, I would make you the queen. I care about you deeply. I screwed up badly, and I apologize so much for that. I'm sure you must hate me."

I couldn't believe what Miranda was saying. I didn't know what to think. If she was just doing this to toy with my emotions…I sighed in defeat when I realized what I was going to say.

"I don't hate you." I paused and my shoulders drooped. "I can't. It's emotionally and physically impossible for me to do that. I hate myself."

Miranda's face lit up before she twisted it into a frown. "Did Nate make you feel like that?" she snarled. "Because I will-"

"Wait. How do you know about that?" I was startled.

"Emily and Nigel," Miranda said. "Please don't be mad at them. They were dreadfully concerned. I can't believe you hid it for so long. I'm so sorry for not noticing before. I love you. I should've seen it."

I wasn't mad at Emily, nor Nigel. In fact, I was relieved that I didn't have to hide it anymore.

"It's not your fault," I peered up at her through my lashes. "I tried to hide it really well. I didn't want to cause any extra stress on you. I-I love you Miranda-God, I've loved you for such a long time. You're my whole world."

Miranda's eyes filled up with even more tears. My eyes were so tired, and they hurt from all the salt that passed through them, yet I felt mine water too.

"Oh Andréa," Miranda whispered.

She tentatively wrapped her arms around me, and enveloped me in a warm embrace. Maybe I had nicked my artery, and was imagining this incredible fantasy before I died, but the warmth that was emanating from her helped make my dream a reality. I was almost numb from the rain that seeped through my clothing, and warmth seemed almost foreign to me. I wrapped my arms around her back and hid my face in the crook of her neck-safe from the rest of the world. Her cheek rested on top of my head, and I quivered even harder. Soon, the dams broke for both Miranda and I. I heard her cries blending in with mine, and felt her hot tears sliding down my forehead. I don't know how long we stood there like that, sharing our pain with each other, but by the time both of our sobs subsided, the sun was setting.

I pulled back but did not loosen my hold on her, and looked at her face, now stained with tear streaks. The last few weak rays of the sun illuminated her face, making her look even more stunning than usual. I reached up with my fingers and brushed some of the wetness away. She smiled at me, and kissed my forehead. My eyelids fluttered when I felt her perfect lips on my skin, and I returned her smile. I was getting the same feelings that I had earlier- bubbly and ecstatic. I swiped at my cheeks to get rid of some of the mascara marks I knew had probably left an ugly trail of black down my face.

"Thank you," my voice was hoarse from all the crying.

"For what?" Miranda's voice was scratchy too.

"For making me feel loved again."

"I will always love you," Miranda said reverently.

"But you can't want me," I said with a sad smile. "I'm too broken."

Miranda had a look of anguish on her face. She cupped my face with her hands. Wiping away my tears, she kissed my forehead again.

"Oh but my sweet Andréa," Miranda breathed, "I most certainly do."

And then she leaned in and touched her lips against mine. I stood frozen for a moment before my brain caught up with the sensations I was feeling. Miranda. Was. Kissing. Me. It was extraordinary. My eyes were still open, which helped with my crazed emotions. It helped prove that Miranda was no hallucination. I suddenly realized that I was frozen in shock, and hadn't responded in the slightest. Miranda seemed to understand though, because she was gently running her fingers through my hair with her lips still pressed against mine.

She finally broke away for air and looked into my eyes. The raw emotion I found in them made my chest hurt-but in a good way. I've never seen love that pure from another person. I'm sure my eyes reflected what I was feeling. Saying nothing, I wrapped my arms around her back and leaned in for another kiss.

This time, I closed my eyes so I could really relish the feeling of her lips that molded against mine perfectly. Instead of the hurt and sadness and anger I had felt earlier, Miranda made me feel loved and cherished. I sighed against her lips, and I felt her hands slide down to my lower back, and she pulled me even closer to her. Our whole entire bodies were touching, and there was so much sensation. To add onto that, Miranda had tentatively slid her tongue across my lower lip, and I willingly opened my mouth to receive her loving caress. Our tongues intertwined, and we were both breathing heavily through our noses. We finally broke apart, and she rested her forehead against mine.

"You see Andréa," she whispered, "that is the reason why I felt the urge to push you away. I was so unbelievably jealous. The thought of someone touching you was unbearable. I love you."

"And I love you," I murmured.

"I promise to cherish you for the rest of my life," Miranda vowed. "You don't need to feel anything but beautiful and loved when you're with me."

"I can't," I inhaled sharply. "I'm ugly."

"Is that what Nate said to you?" Miranda's eyes turned hard before softening. "Never mind darling. I'm sure you're exhausted. But I want you to know something Andréa. You are the most unselfish and most wonderful gorgeous person I know."

I blushed at her words. She gave me another soft kiss.

"Please let me take you home with me."

"But what about Emily and Serena?" I asked. "And what about your daughters? Will they be okay with me?"

"I'm sure _Emily_ will be fine with the arrangement, and Caroline and Cassidy already really like you. Apparently you've been a great influence on my children," Miranda smiled faintly. "Thank you for giving them your time each night to talk to them."

"They are really wonderful," I said sincerely. "I was happy to spend time with them. And-wait. Miranda Priestly, are you _jealous_ of Emily?"

Miranda blushed a faint pink and looked to the side.

"You know she and Serena are married, right?" I nudged her cheek with my nose. She looked back at me with a sheepish expression on her face. "She is my dearest friend, but my heart belongs to you."

I leaned in and captured her lips with mine.

"Come," she clutched my hand, "Roy has been waiting for a really long time for us to come out."

"Oh no!" I cried. "Poor Roy."

I attempted to walk towards the door, but Miranda's firm grip pulled me back.

"Wait," Miranda's eyes were clouded.

"What?" I was scared.

"Are you alright?" she traced the places I cut myself gently with her index finger.

"It was a momentary lapse of judgment," I flushed. "I swear it won't happen again."

"It was my fault," Miranda's eyes followed them. "I'm so sorry I pushed you to do that."

"Hey," I protested. "I chose to do it. It was dumb and reckless and very irresponsible of me to even contemplate it. I don't know what I was thinking. The fault lies with me, and me alone. Please, please, _please_ don't blame yourself."

Miranda squeezed my hands, and looked up at the sky.

"Come on darling. It looks like it's going to rain again."

My heart fluttered when she called me 'darling', and I allowed her to lead me out of Rockefeller Center and into the Mercedes, where Roy was waiting patiently.

"Thank you so much," I told his smiling reflection in the rearview mirror. I tried not to look at my own reflection, since it reminded me how ugly I was.

"It was no problem," Roy's eyes crinkled. "I am just happy that you two found happiness together."

"I am happy too," I smiled back.

"Home Ms. Priestly?" Roy asked.

"Yes. Thank you Roy."

Miranda and I sat as close as we physically could in the back of the car. I rested my head on her shoulder and Miranda interlocked her fingers with mine.

"So why Rockefeller Center?" Miranda asked out of the blue.

"It was my favorite place to go when my parents took me to New York City when I was a girl," I smiled at the memories. "It's part of the reason why I moved to New York. I loved the tall buildings, and I went up to the Observation Deck at least three times before each trip was done. Being up so high gave me a sense of power and peace. It helped clear my mind."

"Mmm," Miranda hummed in response.

"And," I pressed my lips to the soft skin on her neck, "it's the place where we shared our first kiss."

Miranda trembled. "I love you," she murmured.

"And I love you," I grinned against her skin. "I will never get tired of saying those words or hearing them from you."

"Nor will I," Miranda turned her head and gave me a quick peck on the lips. "We still have much to talk about."

I nodded, and we rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence. Nerves took over me when I thought about Caroline and Cassidy's reactions to me, but they calmed once I remembered Miranda's words. _They really liked me._ I settled back into the soft plush of the seat, and simply sat, delighting in the feel of my Miranda sitting so close to me. Life was looking up.


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks everyone! The 'M' rated part is at the end! Also, 'guest' who reviewed gave me some really helpful advice about pregnancy! Having never been pregnant before, it was a big help, and I'm sorry if I got any of the information wrong. Thanks! **

"My hair is extremely wavy now!" I giggled as I patted at my dry hair.

"It looks gorgeous," Miranda cupped my face with one hand and ran her other hand through my slightly curly locks.

I blushed and tilted my head further to the side so Miranda was cradling my face. It felt so amazing. I closed my eyes and smiled faintly. Roy had dropped us off at the townhouse, and we were standing outside of the door. It was raining again, but the awning protected us from getting wet.

"I'll hold of the girls until tomorrow from asking questions when we go inside," I heard Miranda murmur. "Don't worry."

"Are you sure? I can-" I was abruptly cut off by Miranda's finger on my lips.

"You've had a long and hard day Andréa. You are in no condition to be explaining anything to anyone," Miranda chastised softly. "Let me deal with them."

"Alright," I kissed her fingertip, touched by her consideration. "Thank you."

Miranda intertwined our hands before she unlocked the door and escorted me into her house. A delicious aroma hit my nostrils, and I inhaled deeply, savoring the smell. It smelled like home. I tightened my hold on Miranda's hand, and rested my head on her shoulder.

"Hey Mom!" a female voice cried. "You're home early!"

"Yeah, you're just in time for dinner!" another almost identical voice joined the first.

I jerked my head off of her soft shoulder when I heard feet pounding down the stairs. I was soon greeted with the sight of two pre-teen redheads. Their faces contorted into confusion when they saw me with their mother, and I couldn't help but notice that their gazes lingered on our tangled hands. I tried to loosen my hold on Miranda's hand, but she tightened her grip and wouldn't let me go.

"Girls, Andréa will be staying with us for a while," Miranda said softly.

I smiled at them. After all, I knew them well since I spent my evenings talking to them.

"Hey guys."

"Andy what happened?" Cassidy cried.

"Are you alright?" Caroline echoed her sister's worries.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Miranda cut me off.

"Girls, please refrain from interrogating Andréa tonight. She's had a rough day. We'll talk tomorrow," Miranda raised an eyebrow. "Anyways, we should eat."

"Alright," Cassidy said reluctantly.

Caroline was looking at me intently.

"Caroline? Time for dinner," Miranda prodded.

"Andy, your hair is really pretty," Caroline said with a wonderstruck expression on her face. "You look like a model! Who did it for you?"

"Oh, well," I blushed again. "Thank you. It's natural. Usually I straighten it everyday, but today I got soaked."

"Whoa, that's amazing," Caroline gushed. "I wish I had hair like that!"

"No you don't! Trust me," I winked, "it's quite a pain in the you-know-what to style everyday! Besides, your hair is beautiful. It's the perfect shade of red!"

I felt Miranda squeeze my hand gently. I looked at her and gave her a small grin.

"Thanks Andy!" Caroline raced down the stairs, pulling Cassidy behind her. "Now I'm starving! Let's go eat guys."

I found myself eating pizza with the Priestly family like it was the most normal thing in the world. Patricia was nuzzling my leg, begging for food while Miranda had taken the position of my protector, and was sitting very close to me with her hand on my leg under the table. While the gesture was extremely sweet, I could hardly concentrate on my pepperoni slice with the tantalizing distraction. I chewed slowly and carefully, not wanting to overdo it and then pay for it later, since I had to train myself to eat normally again.

Conversation flowed easily. It was like my nightly ritual of talking with the twins, but so much more intimate. I felt more like myself. The Priestly women were my own, special antidepressants. Just being around them made my spirit soar, and my mood lighten.

Soon, our plates were empty, and we all were stuffed. Cassidy was recalling a moment that happened at school, and Caroline was interrupting and adding details that Cassidy missed throughout the story. The story made Miranda and I laugh, and when we were done, the conversation ebbed. The silence was not awkward. We were enjoying the quiet in our own ways. I felt at home. Suddenly, a thunderclap sounded, startling all of us. We giggled at the shock written on all of our faces after we had calmed. Miranda looked at the clock and gasped.

"It's way past your bedtime girls!" she exclaimed.

"Aww Mom!" Cassidy whined.

"We wanna talk to Andy some more! Pleaasse?" Caroline pleaded.

"We're scared of the lightening!" Cassidy said with big, wide, innocent eyes.

"Yeah! We can't sleep in thunderstorms!" Caroline chimed in.

"Now," Miranda said sternly. "It's just a minor storm, and you've slept through worse."

Caroline's shoulders slumped in defeat before she stood.

"C'mon Cass," Caroline pulled her twin gently.

"Wait," Cassidy said.

She walked over to where I was sitting. Without warning, she threw her arms around my shoulders and rested her head to the side of my face. My breath caught in surprise, but I returned the hug, squeezing the 11-year old gently. I caught Miranda's eye, and saw that her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. She was smiling with pride though. After a good full minute, Cassidy pulled back and looked up at me.

"I'm happy you're staying here," she grinned. "I hope you stay for a really long time!"

"Wow Cass, thanks," I managed to say past the lump in my throat. "I've had a wonderful time, and hope I can stay here too." I ran my hair through her fiery red locks and gave her another quick hug.

"Time for bed now," Miranda said softly as she placed a hand on my back and touched Cassidy on the shoulder.

"Right. Andy, you should see my bedroom!" Cassidy exclaimed excitedly. "Mom helped me decorate it!"

She grasped my hand in hers and pulled me towards the stairs, past a shocked Caroline. We ascended the steps quickly, and she led me to her bedroom.

Opening door dramatically, she pronounced, "Ta-da!"

I poked my head in, and glanced around. It was really spectacular. She had a canopy over her bed, but it wasn't the cheap one you can buy from _Bed Bath and Beyond._ It looked like a bed from right out of a fairytale. The canopy was white, and it flowed over her bed like a waterfall. Her room was predictably pink, since she stuck me as a girly-girl. Photos of models, men, and her friends were plastered all over one wall, where a television and a DVD player were present in front of a different wall. I stood in the doorway with my mouth open.

"Whoa Cass! This is really great," I said, my eyes roaming across the room quickly. "I would have loved to have this bedroom when I was younger."

"I love it!" Cassidy giggled and ran over to her bed. "Mom was really good at helping me pick out things I wanted."

"Well your mom is really good at a lot of things," I blurted out before I could filter. Heat crept onto my face.

Cassidy looked at me for a second before raising her eyebrow in a similar fashion to Miranda and saying, "Yeah. She really is."

"Oh…well, um, good night," I said a bit awkwardly. "Thanks for showing me your room. It's amazing."

"Good night Andy! See you in the morning!" Cassidy looked over my shoulder. "Good night Mom."

I spun around and faced an amused Miranda Priestly. She must have followed us up the stairs, and I was too enamored with Cassidy's bedroom to notice.

"Good night Cassidy," Miranda responded.

"Love you."

"I love you too."

Miranda gently closed the door. "I'm good at everything, hmm?"

"Of course you are!" I vehemently tried to control my flushed face.

"Not everything," her face fell.

"Name one thing," I challenged.

"I'm not good at controlling my anger, as you know from earlier today," Miranda looked at the ground.

"But," I reached out my finger and raised her head so she was looking at me, "you are perfect at making things right."

"And you, my dear Andréa," Miranda smirked, "are entirely too sweet for your own good."

I pulled her closer to me and gave her a quick kiss.

"Yes, too sweet," Miranda chuckled.

I grinned back at her. "Is Caroline in bed?"

"Yes. She has a guitar that she never uses, and she knows you play," Miranda said. "She was wondering if you would be willing to sing for her tomorrow."

"I'm pretty rusty," I admitted, "but I'd be happy to play for her tomorrow."

"Thank you," Miranda smiled. "You're so good with my children, Andréa. They seem to adore you."

"I guess I'm just good with kids?" I phrased it as a question. "Besides, they're likeable and easy to get along with."

"You've also made friends with my dog," she chuckled. "She loves you too."

"I'm also a dog person," I smiled.

"Indeed," she mused. "Now come. Time for bed."

I followed her to her bedroom and stopped in shock. It was beautiful.

"Are all of your rooms this awesome?" I questioned, awestruck.

Miranda smirked. "Mine's a little more awesome than Cassidy's or Caroline's." She brushed her lips against mine. "Can you guess why?"

"Hmm," I pretended to think. "Because your bed looks like Kate Middleton could sleep in it?"

"No," Miranda raised an eyebrow. "Guess again."

"Your walls are a perfect shade of brown? It doesn't look to dark or too light?"

"Keep guessing," Miranda looked amused.

"The windows are big?" I guessed again, shrugging. "You can see everything? I don't know."

"Nope," Miranda leaned in and purred, "three strikes and you're out."

I struggled to maintain my composure.

"What is it?" I questioned in a low voice.

"My room is amazing because," she started to kiss my cheek and neck between each word she said, "I. Have. You. In. It."

"Sweet talker," I giggled.

"It's true!"

I shook my head fondly. I threw my arms around her neck and captured her lips with mine. Her arms wrapped around my waist and drew me closer to her.

Finally, we broke apart and she murmured, "Here, I'll get you some clothes. The bathroom is that door to your right. Help yourself to anything you find in there," she squeezed my hand.

"Alright," I whispered back.

I watched her hips sway when she walked out of the room, my heart almost bursting with the love I felt for her. I turned reluctantly after she exited the room, and went into the bathroom. Of course it was as gorgeous as the rest of her house. I did my nightly routine, and borrowed a spare toothbrush out of her drawer. Really, who had extra toothbrushes lying around? Apparently Miranda Priestly did. After brushing my teeth, I immediately felt a hundred times better. The burst of mint on my tongue was refreshing and cool. I did everything to avoid looking at myself in the mirror though. I was ugly, and didn't want to remind myself of that fact.

A soft knock came from outside.

"Come in," I called.

"Here you go," Miranda set a pair of pajamas on the sink counter.

I couldn't respond. She took my breath away.

"What?" she asked a little self-consciously.

"You look amazingly gorgeous," I managed to choke out.

And she did. She was wearing a deep blue satin nightgown with a hint of lace on the top. The nightgown fell just past her knees, and it was cut low enough just so I could see a peek of creamy skin that I so desperately wanted to touch.

"Oh, well," Miranda looked shy. "Thank you."

I walked over to her and hugged her.

"You always look beautiful," I murmured in her ear.

"That may change when you see me without makeup," she whispered back.

"Trust me," I kissed her cheek. "I will never think you look ugly. Besides, look at me. I don't have makeup on, and you haven't run screaming from the house yet."

Miranda pulled back and stared at me. "Darling, you are stunning. No matter _what_ that idiot boy told you, you are a magnificent and gorgeous woman."

I smiled weakly. "I love you."

"And I love you," Miranda leaned in and gave me an Eskimo kiss. "Now let's finish getting ready for bed."

I nodded and grabbed the clothes to change.

"You could stay here if you wanted," Miranda cleared her throat. "You don't have to go to the bedroom to change."

"Alright," my heart was beating fast.

She turned to the mirror and started taking off her makeup. I took off my grey shirt and my leggings, leaving me in my matching black lace undergarments. I dressed quickly in the soft cotton pajamas Miranda had chosen, and reached underneath my shirt to unhook my bra. Somehow she knew that I would rather wear cotton than satin to bed, and I hid my goofy smile. I tucked my bra into the grey shirt I folded, and left the pile on the sink counter.

"Ready?" Miranda turned from the mirror and gazed at me.

Without makeup, the lines on her face were softer and her eyes were gentler.

"Yes," I rasped. "You look amazing, as always."

"As do you," Miranda strode over to me and grabbed my face in her hands.

She kissed me. My eyelids fluttered closed and I reveled in the soft lips being pressed against mine. Somehow, we made it out of the bathroom, and back into her bedroom that was now dark. I felt my legs hit the edge of her bed before I flopped ungraciously onto the silk sheets. My back sunk into her king-sized bed and she crawled on top of me.

The darkness made me forget who was kissing me, and I started to panic when I felt her weight settle on me. I grasped her arms and broke away, panting. Trembling, cast my eyes down when I realized what I just did. Tears of embarrassment rolled down my cheeks. Miranda immediately rose off of me. She flipped on a light on her bedside table and laid next to me on the bed. She drew me in a hug.

"Darling, are you all right?" Miranda's voice was concerned. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I sniffled. "It's nothing to do with you-it's my fault._ I'm_ the one who should be apologizing."

I wanted to die. I was mortified. I turned my head to try and bury it into the pillows, but Miranda's arm blocked my only safe escape.

"Andréa," Miranda murmured, "please talk to me. Why are you so upset?"

I buried my face in the place where her neck and shoulder met. I could feel hot tears sliding down my cheeks. I was shaking, but not from crying. I was _terrified._ Miranda's lips pressed against my forehead and I quivered even harder.

"Please Andréa," Miranda pleaded softly. "I can't bear to see you in any more pain. What can I do to help?"

I raised my head and gazed into her blue eyes. "It's because of Nate," I whispered. "I had a flashback to when he…raped me. I felt confined and trapped, even though I know you would never do such a thing. I'm so sorry."

"Andréa, nothing of what that terrible man did was your fault. Never ever think it is," Miranda's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do not be sorry."

"But-"

"It must have been horrifying for you," Miranda cut me off. "I understand completely, and I am so very sorry to hear that you had to go through something horrendous as that."

Her lips found mine in a searing kiss. "I will never hurt you like that. I swear it."

"I know," I mumbled, still embarrassed. "I just felt scared."

Miranda embraced me again, and kissed the side of my face. "I will try everything in my power to make you feel safe. I love you, Andréa." She began to pepper kisses all over my face, kissing my cheeks, forehead, the bridge of my nose, and my eyelids. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and I could hear the rain splashing on the ground. Suddenly, everything felt perfect. I was safe in Miranda's arms. Nate was nowhere around. There was no reason for me to feel scared. The light created a soft glow that bathed the whole room, and I felt calmer. I smiled at her and rested my forehead against hers.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Miranda wordlessly nodded and gently started to kiss me again. I sighed in contentment, reveling in the feeling of kissing the woman I loved with all of my heart. She shifted so she was once again hovering over me, but she didn't press any of her weight down. I gently pushed her down, knowing that she was in an uncomfortable position just for me. Her weight wasn't oppressive, and I didn't feel as trapped as I did before. It helped that she would occasionally murmur things such as 'I love you' to me in between her soft kisses. It helped me remember that it was _Miranda_ and not _Nate_ who was loving me with such passion and protectiveness. Her hands began to stroke the sides of my torso, and I hummed in response. She paused at the hem of my pajama shirt.

"May I?" Miranda husked.

"I don't want you to see me," I flushed. "I'm not perfect enough for you."

"My exquisite Andréa," Miranda breathed. "If anything, I am not perfect for you. You are extremely pretty. Please, let me touch you. Let me love you."

I nodded my consent shakily. She carefully unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it off my shoulders. I was left lying topless under her. Blue eyes roamed my upper body hungrily and she licked her lips. "You are so perfect. So stunning." She started caressing my naked skin, and my breathing escalated. Her hands traveled higher, and she cupped my breasts. I couldn't contain my moan any longer. The lightening flashed, illuminating Miranda's form, and a clap of thunder soon followed.

Her strong hands gently kneaded my flesh, and I could feel goosebumps prickle on my skin. I reached up tentatively with my own hands, and hesitantly cradled one of her breasts. Her breathing hitched, and she breathed out my name. I felt bolder and palmed both breasts in my hands. Miranda's hands soon traveled lower, and soon she was at the top of my pants. She looked up at me, and I nodded. She pulled down the pants and threw them to the side where they lay, forgotten.

Gently, almost reverently, she pulled down my underwear and tossed them aside. I was now completely naked in front of her. Her eyes darkened, and she swallowed.

"You are magnificent," she rasped.

"I want to see you too," I whispered.

I reached towards her, and pulled her nightgown up and over her head. I could scarcely breathe once I saw her naked form. How many times have I dreamed about this moment? She was glorious. My heart swelled, and I pulled her down back to my lips. Our breasts touched for the first time, and both of us gasped at the same time at the intimate feeling. Our lips met, and we breathed in unison through our flaring nostrils. Miranda reached down with her fingers, and cupped my sex. I started panting even heavier and we broke apart. Miranda was a sight for sore eyes. Her hair was mussed, her eyes bright, and her cheeks rosy. I'm sure I matched her appearance, since I felt the exact same way.

Slowly, she entered me with two fingers. Miranda was very gentle, and it didn't hurt like it did with Nate. I drew a sharp intake of breath when I felt her fill me, and I wrapped my arms around her. Déjà-vu struck me, but it was different this time. I didn't have a sweating man grunting on top of me.

"Miranda," I moaned.

"I've got you," she murmured back. "You're safe with me."

She began thrusting her fingers in and out of me at a slow tempo while her thumb rubbed against my clit. She kissed and sucked on my neck, matching the tempo of her fingers. My breathing became more erratic, and I clutched the bedsheets, my eyes fluttering closed.

"Look at me," Miranda spoke softly, but so sensually. "Feel me."

I obeyed, and looked into a sky of blue. Our connection was so strong at that moment and I felt such at peace, I wanted to freeze the picture. Her thrusts became faster, and I felt her wetness coat my leg from where she rocked against it. I mewled and gasped, but did not break my eye connection with her. Stars burst in my vision, and a tingly warm feeling was spreading itself throughout my whole entire body. It was so much sensation.

"Let go," Miranda breathed. "It's all right."

I whimpered, and suddenly my climax was upon me. I came quietly, and my world exploded into an endless sea of blue. I could feel Miranda come too, and she held me tightly while we both rode out our orgasms. She nuzzled her face into my hair, and I nosed her cheek. The rain was still pouring, and the thunder still rumbling when we laid together, basking in our afterglow.

"T-thank you," my voice broke. "Thank you for showing me what it's like to be loved again."

Miranda held me tighter and kissed the top of my head. "I love you Andréa."

"And I love you Miranda. You are my soul mate," I whispered.

"And you are mine."

She rolled off of me and laid next to me again.

"Time to get some rest," Miranda smiled.

She reached underneath herself, motioned for me to lift myself, and pulled the covers down. We settled onto the cool sheets, and Miranda pulled the covers over us, blanketing us in a warm cocoon. Our legs tangled, and she snaked her arm under my neck, allowing us to snuggle as close as we could. My arm rested on top of her hip, and I kissed her deeply one last time.

"Good night Miranda."

"Good night Andréa."

She made me feel beautiful, something I hadn't felt in a long, long time. She made me feel protected, safe, and cherished. Miranda really was my soul mate. With those happy thoughts, I fell asleep and slept well for the first time in months, content with the knowledge that Miranda loved me as much as I loved her.

**There! First love scene I have ever written!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you to every single person whose read this story! Also for all the people who PM'd me to tell me to update this soon! I'm sorry it's taken me so long, finals are coming up, so I've been quite busy…I really appreciate everyone's support. This chapter should be full of some good Nate ass kicking! (Sorry if it's too long, I just was too lazy to post it in two separate sections!) Thanks again, and h****appy holidays! :)**  


"Oh please don't!" I cried out.

"Andréa, darling. Wake up. You're safe."

"Please, please. Don't hurt me."

"Andréa!"

I woke up with a jolt. Miranda's beautiful eyes were inches away from mine, and I remembered where I was. The sheets were all rumpled, and I could feel tears clinging to my lashes. Shame burned up in me, and I looked away in attempt to hide the wetness forming in my eyes.

"Andréa, it's alright. You were just having a dream," Miranda soothed.

I hiccupped and started sobbing. "I-I'm so sorry Miranda."

Miranda wrapped her arm around my stomach and held me tightly. "Don't be sorry," she murmured. She brushed her lips against my temple. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head soundlessly, still trying to process everything. Why hadn't my fist stopped my cries? Maybe it was because my brain was too tired to remember to do that. Last night had-oh my god. Last night. I shot up and looked at Miranda. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were bright.

"Miranda?" I felt stupid, but for some reason, I needed clarification.

"Yes darling," Miranda brushed a strand of wavy hair out of my face and cupped my cheeks. "Are you always this slow in the mornings?" she teased gently.

I managed a giggle. It had all been real. I was in Miranda Priestly's bed! God, it felt like all my senses were coming alive again. My brain was working on overdrive, trying to remember everything. The nightmare had completely wiped away my senses and stole my equilibrium. Looking over at Miranda who still had a look of concern on her face.

"Oh Miranda!" I laughed joyfully and leapt onto her, pining her beneath me, suddenly very aware of both our states of undress. I held myself up by my arms, but let our bodies press together, drawing a gasp from both of us.

Her laugh was melodic. "I'm glad you've come back to your senses." She turned serious. "Will you confide in me what had you so worked up?"

"Just a nightmare," I fibbed and bit my lower lip.

"Andréa…" Miranda trailed off. She slipped her hand under the sheets and started tracing circles on my back.

I took a deep breath. In order for our relationship to work, trusting Miranda was essential. It was time for me to stop hiding from everyone.

"It was about Nate," I lowered my eyes. "About the night he…raped me. I know it's stupid since it was months ago, but-"

"Andréa. What you went through was horrendous. It takes time to heal. You've been alone for so long, it's a miracle that you're still going," Miranda reached up her hand and trailed it through my locks.

"It's because of you," I whispered. "Miranda, you're the one who kept me going this whole time. I kept telling myself, keep pushing on. You'll see Miranda soon and everything will be all right."

"Oh darling, you are never going to feel like that again," Miranda murmured, looking up at me underneath her eyelashes. "Andréa, I love you so much."

Miranda then leaned up and captured my lips with hers. It expressed so much more than words ever could. Her lips were soft and sweet, and I melted. Her arms were securely wrapped around my back, making me feel so safe and protected. She tried to flip me over so I would be on bottom, but I held my position firmly. When she broke off the kiss and looked up puzzled, I grinned. I took her hands from behind my back and pushed them above her head, my fingers intertwined with hers.

"It's my turn to pleasure you," I gave her an impish grin. "You made me feel so good last night. I want to reciprocate."

Miranda moaned, the sound making me even wetter. I leaned down and started worshipping her lovely neck with my tongue and lips, occasionally nipping and biting at places. Every time she tried to pull her hands free from my hold on them, I tightened my fingers and pushed her hand firmly down into the bed. I paused and smirked at her frustrated face.

"I want…" Miranda started agitatedly. "No, I _need_ to feel you."

"Shh, just wait," I hovered over her mouth. "I want to try something. Don't move your hands." I kissed her quickly and pulled back before she could properly reciprocate. I reluctantly pulled my hands away from hers. She obeyed me, and I smiled. Moving down the fashion icon's body, I left kisses between the valley of her beautiful breasts, and then gently licked around her nipples that were just begging to be kissed.

"Andréa," Miranda groaned.

My mouth latched itself onto her breast, making her arch up off the bed. I hummed in contentment and she struggled to contain her moans, afraid of waking up the twins. I sucked on the hardened peak for a while before switching to her other breast and giving it the equal amount of attention. Once I was done worshipping her breasts, I trailed kisses down her flat stomach, dipping my tongue into her belly button. I finally got to her core, and found the proof of her arousal.

"Andréa, please," Miranda begged.

"You're so beautiful Miranda," I ran my hands down her sides; loving the goosebumps I left in my wake.

Before she could respond, I took a slow lick up her weeping center. She bucked her hips, and had to grab a pillow to muffle the sounds of her pleasure, much to my disappointment. I wanted to hear the beautiful sounds of her contentment. Unfortunately, the twins would probably walk in on us, thinking their mother was in trouble. It would be awkward for everyone.

I returned to the task at hand, and took another slow lick, savoring Miranda's unique taste. She tasted marvelous, and I couldn't get enough. Swirling my tongue around her core, I found her clit and began sucking on it. That _really_ got Miranda worked up. She almost shot off the bed before I wrapped my arms around her hips. Even with the pillow, I could hear Miranda's whimpers and cries. Consumed with love and affection, I was determined to give the woman I loved the best orgasm ever, so I tripled my efforts. Diving in, I closed my lips around the place that gave her the most pleasure, and gently nibbled it. I could faintly hear Miranda's muffled scream before she climaxed. I greedily licked her clean, and slid two fingers into her, determined to make her feel amazing again. I sucked, bit, and licked everywhere I could, all the while curling my fingers in her. Everything felt so _right._ She trembled violently, and climaxed a second time…and then a third. Finally, Miranda could take no more and collapsed back onto the bed, panting. Her body was glistening with sweat, and I had never seen anything more beautiful. I stayed between her legs for a while, gently licking her clean.

With a quick swipe of my tongue, I cleaned my lips of her juices, and then crawled back up to her. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was still erratic. The pillow had been thrown to the side.

"Miranda?" I started panicking. "Miranda?"

"Mmm?" she opened her eyes slowly, blearily blinking them.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" I was distraught.

"No darling," Miranda reached up weakly and hugged me, "just the opposite in fact. I have never felt so content-so relaxed. That was amazing. Thank you."

"Don't thank me," I brushed a white hair out of her face. "I love you."

"And I love you," Miranda tugged me and brought my lips down on hers.

We kissed for a while before Miranda pulled back. "I believe it's time to get up now. Although there is nothing more I wish right now than to stay in bed with you the whole day."

I groaned. "I whole-heartedly agree."

"I suppose I could," Miranda waggled her eyebrows, "spare a couple more minutes."

"For what-oh," I blushed before smiling down at the woman I loved. "Oh Miranda Priestly."

And she pulled me down for another kiss.

* * *

Once we were both sated sufficiently, we took a shower together. There was no more sex though, the shower was about showing the tenderness and the love we felt for each other. I wrapped Miranda in my arms and placed soft kisses on the back of her shoulders and neck. The water cleansed us both, and I kneaded my nimble fingers in her soft hair as I worked her signature shampoo in. She tilted her head back to rest on my shoulder, and I couldn't resist sneaking a quick kiss on the lips. The corners of her mouth lifted, and she reached an arm back and hooked it around the back of my neck, firmly keeping me in place. After we broke away, I took the soap bar and started washing her wonderful body. Reverently, I soaped her silky skin and stepped aside to let the water rinse her.

"All clean," I breathed.

"Your turn," she nipped at the shell of my ear.

We switched positions, and this time, I was the one to lean against her body. Her strong hands worked her _own_ shampoo through my hair and I melted in her arms. It certainly was the best shower I'd ever had! Our shower concluded shortly after, and we dressed quickly. I borrowed a pair of her black slacks, a cream-colored blouse, and just to be a bit naughty (or flirty, depending on how you look at it) blood-red pumps. I grinned at my own reflection in the mirror, and almost didn't recognize the face shining back at me. My eyes were bright-something they hadn't been in a long time, and my cheeks were rosy. I made my way to the bathroom where Miranda was leaning over the counter applying her makeup. I admired her backside unashamedly before addressing her.

"Miranda, you don't even need makeup!" I grinned at her through the mirror. "It's a Saturday!"

"I have to go into work today," Miranda averted my gaze.

"Oh," I said, a bit deflated.

"It won't be long," Miranda assured me. "Hopefully."

"Alright," I decided to let it go, since I didn't want to start a fight.

Miranda finished sweeping the black mascara through her lashes, and turned around to face me fully. Wordlessly, she reached out to me and I stepped into her arms. I rested my head on her chest, and listened to her heartbeat. Her voice rumbled in my ear when she spoke.

"Andréa, since you brought it to my attention that in fact it is indeed a Saturday, would you mind explaining to me why you're wearing," Miranda's eyes roamed over my body hungrily and she licked her lips, "that _outfit_, and those," she paused again and raised her eyebrows, "_particular_ shoes."

"Hmm," I crinkled my forehead in fake concentration, "maybe," I placed a kiss on her lips and kept delivering short kisses between each word I spoke, "I- wore- it- for- someone- I- wanted- to- impress."

"That person would like you to know that she is blown away by your beauty each and every day," Miranda hummed and then gave me a long kiss that made my knees go weak. Our noses brushed together and our tongues and lips engaged in a soft dance.

"Hey," I mumbled, breaking our kiss.

"Hmm?" Miranda nuzzled my forehead, making it hard for me to concentrate.

"I was wondering," I shyly started, "if I could call you Mira."

"Darling, you can call me whatever you want," Miranda grinned and as always, it took my breath away.

"Anything?" I raised my eyebrows. "What about 'hot stuff'?"

"Uh, no."

"Honey bunches? Sweetums? Button?"

Miranda gave me her famous glare. "Are you quite done listing off ridiculous names Andréa?"

"Or, how about..." I paused because I was giggling so hard, "Sweet thang?!"

"Really Andréa," Miranda huffed.

"I'm just teasing," I wrapped my arms around her neck. "You are _my_ Mira. And _nothing_ and _no one_ else's."

"Yes, I am," Miranda purred in contentment. "And you are my Andréa."

"Are you ever going to call me Andy?"

"No. Unless you want me to," she looked hesitantly at me.

"Of course not!" I beamed. "I would feel weird if you did. The way you pronounce my full name...No one else can even compare to you. Good lord. Just _thinking_ about how the words roll off your tongue..."

Miranda's eyes widened. "I-I didn't know the way I pronounced your name affected you that much."

"Oh," I blushed. "Well, now you do."

"I promise never to call you 'Andy'."

"Good!" I leaned in and touched my lips to hers. "Now, I'd better straighten my hair." I stepped out of her embrace and walked over to the counter.

"Why?" Miranda almost sounded...whiny.

"Because yesterday was the first time in three years that I've left my hair natural, and it felt really weird. I miss having straight hair!"

"Surely, your hair would thank you if you left it for another day or two?" Miranda (almost) pleaded. She walked behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist, placing her chin on my shoulder. "Is it not frayed by now?"

"I always make sure to leave spray it with some heat protectant of some sort," I shrugged, careful not to bop her too hard in the chin.

"Still..." Miranda trailed off.

_Damn. She really wanted me to leave my hair wavy._ "Alright," I nudged her. "If it makes you happy."

She tightened her hold and kissed the back of my neck, showing her thanks. "It's so attractive. Anyways, it's time for breakfast darling."

* * *

Miranda's POV.

The brunette sitting across from me stole my breath away. She was so beautiful, and she was all _mine._ I hid my smirk behind my coffee mug and stared at Andréa over the rim. Her eyes were sparkling, and the dark circles underneath her eyes had almost completely faded. She was in an animated conversation with Cassidy and Caroline, and was oblivious to my appreciative gaze. My grin faltered when I thought of that idiotic chef hurting her in the worst way possible. I was going to make him pay.

"Mom? Mom? Did you hear what I just asked." Caroline's voice snapped me out of my musings.

A bit flustered, I blinked to clear my thoughts, and saw Andréa's concerned-filled chocolate orbs looking at me.

"Are you alright Miranda?" she asked softly.

"Yes, I spaced out there for a moment," I gave her a small smile, noticing Cassidy elbow her sister in the ribs when she saw it. "Sorry Caroline, I didn't hear what you said."

"Cass and I were just thinking that Andy could sing for us now," Caroline beamed.

"Only if that is okay with you," Andréa broke in.

"Of course," I stood and reached for my dishes.

"Here, I got them!" Andréa's hand shot out and grabbed my plate, as well as Cassidy's and Caroline's.

"You really don't have to do that," Cassidy giggled. "But thanks."

"Yes, thank you Andréa," I chuckled on the inside when I saw Caroline's jaw drop open.

"No problem! It's the least I can do," Andréa gave me her mega-watt smile and turned to the sink to rinse off the dishes.

"Girls, go up to Caroline's room and set up," I told them.

Both girls nodded and raced upstairs.

"No running in the house!" I called up the stairs.

Twin echoes of 'sorry Mom!' floated down the staircase. I shook my hand and grinned before walking over to Andréa, who was drying her hands off. She tossed the towel back on the counter, and embraced me.

"Thank you Andréa," I murmured.

"It's nothing," I could feel her smile against my neck before she pulled away. "Ready to go?"

"Not yet," I raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

I kissed her. "Because I needed that."

"Oh," she blushed prettily. "That's a good reason."

"Mmm, yes," I fought the blush that was creeping up my neck. "Why is it I find myself needing to constantly touch you? Not always in a sexual manner, but I feel like I need to maintain contact with you at all times."

Andréa tangled her fingers through my hair and pulled my head gently to rest against her forehead. "I think it's because we've denied ourselves the privilege of touching each other for so long, we need to make up that lost time. We can't lose any more. And also," she captured my lips with hers, "because we love each other, and that, my sweet Mira, is what people do when they're madly in love."

"Somehow, you always know what to say," I looked in her eyes affectionally before returning her kiss hungrily.

"Mooom! Andyyyy!"

"What's taking you guys so long?"

I groaned softly, and pulled back to look into the eyes I loved to gaze at. Andréa gave me a small grin.

"We're coming!" Andréa called over her shoulder. "Let's go Mira."

The nickname sent a shiver own my spine, and I looked at her lustfully. She gulped and averted my gaze before tugging on my hand and pulling me up the stairs with her. We hurried to Caroline's room, where we found the twins sitting cross-legged on the floor with the guitar laying across both of their laps.

"Finally!" Cassidy exclaimed.

"Yeah, what took you guys so long?" Caroline rose an eyebrow suspiciously.

"I just took a long time with the dishes," Andréa shrugged.

"Well, hurry up! I want to hear you!" Caroline said impatiently.

"Caroline, calm down," I said sternly. "Andréa will play for you when she's good and ready."

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Hey, no worries!" Andréa beamed. "Here, hand me the guitar."

Cassidy picked up the wooden instrument and passed it to the brunette. Andréa carefully took the guitar and sat in Caroline's black desk chair. She swung it so it laid across her thighs.

"What song do you want me to sing?" Andréa asked, shifting her look between Cassidy, Caroline, and me.

"I don't care," Cassidy stretched out on the floor on her belly. Propping herself up with her arms, she cupped her face with her hands and looked adoringly at Andréa.

"Yeah, me either. Surprise us!" Caroline adopted the same pose as her sister.

"Alright," Andréa crinkled her forehead in concentration. "Mira-I meant, Miranda, would you like to sit down?"

I nodded, hiding my smile at her near slip at my name. I was unconcerned about the girls hearing it, but Andréa and I hadn't discussed...well anything yet. Making a mental note to have a chat with her very soon, I swept over to Caroline's giant bed and sat regally on the end. Seemingly satisfied with seeing me at ease, Andréa lowered her gaze to the strings and played a few chords to warm up.

"I picked out a song that I think sums up my...emotions well," Andréa said softly, looking at me through her lashes.

"By all means, move at a glacial pace," I waved my hand with a twinkle in my eyes, "you know how that thrills me."

I saw the corner of Andréa's mouth lift, and I felt satisfied.

"Yes Miranda."

_Cheeky girl._ I thought with amusement.

Andréa started playing the intro, and I knew immediately what song she was going to sing. It was a beautiful song, and although I had never heard her sing before, I was sure her soft voice would do wonders to it. Besides that, she was correct in her earlier assumption-the message behind the words were so powerful, and described all she went through. Andréa opened her mouth to start singing, and as soon as she hit the first note, shivers went up my spine and my jaw dropped before I could control it. Her voice was so pure, so lovely. It caressed my ears and slid down my back like warm honey. I sat there, awestruck through the entirety of her song.

_I took my love and I took it down _  
_I climbed a mountain and I turned around _

_And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills _  
_'Till the landslide brought me down _

_Oh, mirror in the sky _  
_What is love? _  
_Can the child within my heart rise above? _  
_Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides? _  
_Can I handle the seasons of my life? _

_Mmm Mmm..._

Andréa looked up and locked her eyes with mine as she sang the next verse of the song.

___Well, I've been afraid of changing _

_'Cause I've built my life around you _

Andréa gave me a small smile when she sang the last line. I knew it was true...everything she'd been through, everything she'd endured...I was the cause of it. My eyes prickled with tears.

_But time makes you bolder _

_Children get older _

_I'm getting older too_

At that point, Andréa strummed the guitar softly, and her eyes shone with love as she looked at me. I was relieved I was sitting, since my legs had turned to jelly. I made no attempt at wiping away the tears running down my face. I could see Andréa's face etched with worry, but I shook my head to communicate I wanted her to keep going, despite my reaction. She gave an almost unnoticeable nod back and continued to sing, her melodic voice warming its way in my heart.

_Well, I've been afraid of changing _  
_'Cause I, I built my life around you _  
_But time makes you bolder _  
_Children get older _  
_I'm getting older too _  
_I'm getting older too _

_So, take my love, take it down _  
_Oh climb a mountain and turn around _  
_If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills _  
_Well the landslide will bring you down, down _

_And If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills _  
_Well maybe the landslide will bring it down _  
_Oh oh, the landslide will bring it down_

As she finished the song, I knew that I would never let anyone hurt her again. I vaguely was aware of clapping, but my vision was clouded as I looked at the woman I loved more than life itself. Suddenly, she was next to me, her slender fingers gently wiping away the tears. Her long arms wrapped themselves around my shaking frame and I clung to her, inhaling her scent in great gulping breaths. I didn't know why I was so affected. Maybe it was because I knew that I was the cause of what had happened to her, or maybe it was because of her voice. Or maybe it was simply because I felt I would combust with the overwhelming love I felt for her, and it took a meaningful song to reduce me to a sobbing mess.

"Mom?" Cassidy crawled next to me, and wrapped her arms around my waist, just under Andréa's arms.

"Are you alright?" Caroline laid her head in my lap and looked up at me with worry.

"Y-yes," I sniffled. "I apologize for breaking down. I don't know why..."

I felt Andréa's arms tighten around my midsection and felt her lips touch the crown of my temple.

"Shh," she breathed. "It's alright. I apologize as well, I didn't know that that song would have this effect."

"I love you so much," my words came out in a rush.

"Whoa! What?" Cassidy pulled back as Caroline jerked her head up.

I could feel Andréa tense beside me, and I frantically grabbed her arm, not wanting her to move an inch away from me. She relaxed and brushed the stubborn lock of white hair away from my face. I wrapped her arms around my body again and calmed once I felt her solid presence. Then, I turned to face the shocked expressions of my daughters.

"I love Andréa," I confessed. "I'm so sorry that I haven't told you girls earlier."

Caroline crawled back into my lap.

"Are you happy?" she asked, her sweet face gazing up at me.

"Yes Bobbseys. I am," I smiled through my tears.

"Andy," Cassidy turned to the woman, "do you love Mom?"

"With my whole heart," Andréa got a little misty eyed as well.

"Then you'd better treat her well," Caroline glared at her.

"I promise Caroline," she said, her face shining, "I will guard your Mom's heart with my life. I promise to love her forever."

"Good," Caroline seemed satisfied and sat back up.

"So you guys are alright if I date Andréa?" I asked, still hesitant.

"Of course not! She's a lot cooler than Stephen ever was," Cassidy shrugged. "Besides, if you're happy, nothing else matters. If our friends at school can't deal with that, then their loss."

To say I was shocked was an understatement. I was sure that they would feel cheated, and betrayed. But I guess since Andréa had been so kind to them, they accepted her. I'm positive if that Andréa had been a different woman, the girls wouldn't warm up to her so fast.

"Yeah, we love you Mom!" Caroline grinned.

She hugged Andréa, who hugged her back with an equal fervor. Cassidy crawled over to where the two were hugging, and embraced Andréa on the other side. Andréa had to let go of me to give both twins equal attention. I sat close enough to still touch her side, but I missed her comforting hold on me.

"Okay," Caroline pulled away. "For goodness' sake Andy, kiss her already!"

"Yeah!" Cassidy chirped in. "She looks miserable!"

I blushed. Andréa chuckled softly and wrapped me in her arms again, much to my relief and satisfaction. She leaned in and captured her lips with mine. It wasn't a long kiss-probably only about a few seconds, but I felt at ease again.

"Thank you," I whispered. "To all of you. I love you all."

My girls enveloped me again with their arms, pressing all of us closer together. My heart filled with joy, and I simply sat with tears running down my face, wrapped in the comforting and loving arms of my family.

* * *

An hour later, I stood outside the door of the small apartment, my hands balled in fists and my face set in a stony mask. I had come to Andréa's old apartment, just hoping to find the _fry cook_ and teach him a lesson or two. I looked down at my body and knew I was dressed for the kill. I knew I looked intimidating, and I knew how to amp my sensuality and coldness up to make grown men cry. Besides, a police officer with a pair of handcuffs and a gun was trailing behind me about 10 minutes away...Plenty of time for me to evoke my revenge on the pathetic boy. Straightening my shoulders and adjusting my posture, I knocked on the door.

It swung open, and a disgusting smell wafted out. It was a cross between sex, alcohol, drugs, and garbage. A young man with curly brown hair was standing in the doorframe in a pair of faded jeans and a white tee-shirt. When he saw me, his face turned bright red and his eyes narrowed into small slits.

"Miranda Priestly."

I shivered internally. Nobody, in all my life, had ever said my name with such contempt and hatred. However, I did not care in the slightest what this pathetic boy thought of me, and I whipped off my sunglasses and pined him with one of my most intense glares.

"I assume you know why I'm here," I snarled.

"Hmm, I don't know," Nate feigned indifference. "Did you finally wake up to realize my girlfriend's pathetic feelings for you? Are you here to fuck her? Because I already did, and she was the best-"

I slapped him-hard. Before he had a chance to recover, I pushed him on the chest forcefully and he stumbled back before tripping over a shoe and falling on his bottom. I stalked into the apartment behind him, and kicked the door shut. I stomped on Nate's stomach with my heel, loving the cry of his pain. He curled up on the floor, wheezing for breath. Not showing him any mercy, I dug my fingernails into his scalp and with a strength I didn't even knew I possessed, I lifted him up by the roots of his hair and drug him to a chair where I forcefully plopped him down. Yanking a piece of rope from my purse, I proceeded to tie Nate's hands up. I smiled a dark smile and stepped back to admire my handiwork. I was panting slightly, and my muscles ached from lifting a 150-pound man, but the results were worth it. The wicked man was tied up, and he looked defeated.

"Is that all you've got?" I sneered.

No response. I pulled out a knife and my heels clicked as I slowly sauntered towards him, loving the fear in his eyes.

"How does it feel to be completely and entirely helpless? You are hopeless to try and scream, for no one will come for you. You are hopeless to escape, since I bounded you extremely tight. You are pretty much hopeless to do anything. Do you have any idea how Andréa must have felt?"

"Oh, I see," Nate smirked. "So Andy fucking told you a pack of lies about how I raped her, and you're here for-what? Vengeance? Penance?"

"I'm here because you've hurt the person I love," I ran the knife slowly across his face. "And you deserve to rot in hell."

Nate barked out a short laugh. "She deserved it. You should have seen her...She was marvelous when she came, crying out in ecstasy but also crying out in pain as well. It was beautiful, and-"

I hit him with the handle of the knife, silencing his disgusting mouth. His words made me sick to my stomach, and I knew without a doubt, I wanted to kill him.

"You're absolutely sick," I spat, still holding the blade firmly against his cheek.

"So I've been told," he mused. "But you are too. I mean, you're what? 50? 51? And you're pursuing a girl who is almost 30 years younger than you. What happens when you die? She'll still be young, and she'll be heartbroken."

Nate's words were having the desired effect on me, and I could feel my insecurities bubble up inside me, threatening to consume me. I firmly pushed them back down though, knowing that Andréa loved me as much as I loved her. She didn't care about age.

"You're wrong," I whispered. "Andréa is a rare and precious human being. She isn't petty to let things like age concern her. I know when I'm old and flabby, she will look upon me with the same love and devotion she does now. As for my death, I'll always be with her, even after I die. My daughters will be with her. She will have friends and family who love her. And you? You will be all alone."

"She will grow tired of you and leave you," Nate's eyes burned with hot, angry tears. "Someday, she will find somebody better, and even though you can tell she's pulling away, you're helpless to stop it. She won't want to be touched, and she'll snap at you more frequently. Finally, you turn to drinking to help your pain. But the alcohol makes you lose control; you can't help yourself, and you hit her when she comes home late from the place her newfound love interest is. You want to make her feel the pain and the anger and the humiliation you feel. To be second place-even when you've known her since high school. Even when you've held her countless nights and listened to her deepest secrets as she snuggles up to you, still head over heels in love," Nate shuddered. "Then comes the snapping point. You don't think-you want her to feel ashamed and cut down. You do the deed and then you order her to leave. Somehow, you feel better, but at the same time, like a monster. You can't believe that you hurt the one person you love, but you can't believe she hurt you either. Miranda, she tossed me aside because she found someone better. I couldn't be the person she needed."

I was shocked to say the least. The fry cook had suffered too. Unfortunately for him, I felt no mercy and no sympathy for him.

"I'm not sorry that she lost interest in you," I stated. "It was your own fault. You never supported her from the beginning-you cut her job down, and the only thing you cared about was your restaurant. You weren't there for her. Maybe she loved you once, but people fall out of love. I know that will not happen to us though. It's too personal to tell you the closeness of our relationship, but I'm sure you already have an idea. As for making her feel pain and humiliation by raping her, it's monstrous and barbaric. If you love someone, you should let them go. You should have loved her more when you had the chance."

"I TRIED!" Nate roared. "I tried so hard to get her to fall in love with me again, but there was no room for me anymore."

"Andréa is better without you," I said sharply. "Anyone who treats her like that doesn't deserve her."

"And I suppose you do?" he sneered.

"Yes. I do," I frowned.

There was a knock at the door. Knowing I only had a few seconds left, I snatched a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back so he was looking in my eyes again.

"If you ever hurt her again," I hissed through gritted teeth, "there is no where on Earth you can hide from me."

"Whatever," he mumbled.

"You will never come near my family. Understood?" I growled.

Nate didn't respond.

"I have one last thing to say to you," I snapped. "You are a bastard who will spend the rest of your days regretting that night, and all the others where you've beaten her. Andréa and I will be splashed across the newspapers and magazines and televisions, and you will be constantly reminded of what you lost. Andréa is a beautiful, incredible, strong woman who deserves so much better than you...Hell, she deserves better than me. But I will cherish her for the rest of our days together."

And with that, I spun away and opened the door for the police officer. He walked in with a nod to me and untied Nate as he started reading Nate his rights. Nate started yelling at the police officer, but I blocked it out. The only thing I caught was 'S_he tied me up! It was physical assault!_' which fell on deaf ears. I smirked to myself. That wasn't going to help him in the slightest. The police officer heaved Nate up, and handcuffed him before placing a firm hand on Nate's bicep and guiding him out the door.

"Thank you," I softly told the policeman.

He blushed and mumbled, "No problem Mrs. Priestly."

"One last thing, _fry cook_," I hissed.

He turned.

"Andréa is pregnant."

His initial look of surprise and shock quickly turned into rage.

"And if you try and gain custody of her baby, trust me," I whispered, "you will not succeed."

He believed me, and judging by the look on his face, he knew he had lost. That didn't stop him from making one last lunge at me though. He rose his bound hands and struck my face forcefully. My neck snapped back, but the pain was lost in the victory I felt. I had completed my duty-I had protected my Andréa. I must have had a maniac grin on my face, because I saw Nate recoil when he looked at me. The policeman barked orders and shoved Nate out the door. I cradled my cheek with my hand, and followed them. The warm breeze hit me as I walked out of the apartment complex, and I reveled in the feeling. The day was bright.

"WAIT. I WANT ANSWERS. I NEED FUCKING ANSWERS," Nate yelled as he was being hauled off. "What is the sex of the baby, and how the fuck did you get the warrant to arrest me?"

"It's too early to tell, and for your second question," I put on my sunglasses, "I'm Miranda Priestly."

He yelled in rage, and the policeman had difficulty loading him in the back of the police car. After he had successfully quieted Nate, he turned and walked back to me.

"Ma'am, I can't assure you that he will get the highest sentence for rape," he said as he scratched his head. "It's hard to convict someone of rape, and it's almost impossible to do if the rape was months ago."

"Not for me. Besides, he assaulted me," I didn't look at the policeman. I was staring straight at Nate through the car window. I knew he couldn't see my eyes, but I knew he knew the look of intense hatred I was shooting him.

"Alright," the policeman cleared his throat.

"I'll have everything sorted out by tomorrow. That's all," I pulled my phone out from my purse and called Roy, clearly dismissing the flustered policeman.

I watched the man I hated drive away, and felt a sense of accomplishment. He was out of our lives for a long time-hopefully with seven years in jail with a $130.35 fine, but I was hoping to get more. Of course, I didn't think that would happen, since that was the maximum sentence in New York for rape. And like the police officer said, it would be impossible to do. Too bad 'impossible' wasn't in my vocabulary.

Roy pulled up, and immediately jumped out of the car. "Mrs. Priestly! Are you alright?" He looked at my face, which looked all swollen up and bruised.

I thought about snapping at him, but then decided against it. "I'm fine."

"How did you get here?" he opened the door for me, and I slipped in.

"Taxi."

Roy gasped, but wisely chose not to say anything.

"Please drive me home," I said, the pain of my cheek only now registering with my adrenaline-rushed mind.

"Yes ma'am."

I settled back into the seat and gingerly cupped my face. In less than 20 minutes, I would see my beautiful Andréa again, and would explain everything. Hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at me.


End file.
